One In The Same
by Mercedes Wolfcry
Summary: When your whole life crashes down with the death of family due to war thats not even your own war, you dont expect to have to take care of your cousins. Most people also dont expect to have to change their tire in the middle of the night because some sort of alien left over popped it. Nor do you expect to be one of the few hit by nature's worse. Crap rolls down hill I suppose. MA
1. The Straw To Break The Camels Back

(_**I told you I'd come up with a new story! Well, here it is. It'll probably have the same language as GIBTH, and probably close to the same content, though I don't really know. Yes, Ironhide is going to live in this one, because I'll come up with somethin' funky like I usually do. Anyways, One In The Same doesn't really have much moral too it. Well, okay, it does, but you'll have to discern that for yourself.**_

_**Anyways, enjoy. I don't really know how this is gonna turn out, but if its horrible or stupid, I'll probably try again. If you start to notice, I tend to like things ether by Ford Or GMC.**_

_**My apologies for any incorrect information through out the story. I am not a mechanic, and anything that's on here is from the makeshift ways that my Grandpa's had me help him in repairing the tractor any MY jimmy.**_

_**Enjoy~**_)

I let out a frustrated noise as I looked at my car, a faded ebony GMC Jimmy, and ran my hand over my hair. The long frizzy hair, looking something akin to the red-brown bush of a main-coons tail, tangled around my fingers, and I let out a muted curse, aware of my passengers peering out at me from the tinted windows. Looking up to the streetlights that illuminated the black street, shining off the windows at me, I once again cursed softly. The streets of Mission City, even repaired from all the damage done when I was in high school, were daunting, as if something seemed to haunt this place. The daunting feeling only made it seem darker out, and that was the last thing I needed when I had to change my damn car's blown tire.

Leaning in the rolled down drivers side window, I put a half bit smile on my face as I looked at my cargo, depending on me to get them to my home. "Hey, kiddos. It looks like something popped the tire, so I'll have to change it otherwise we're not going anywhere tonight. Skyler, can you hand me the jack, please? Be careful; its heavy. Hally, I need you to unbuckle and reach under the passengers side seat and hand my toolbox. It has my equipment in it."

Skyler said not a word, but silently slipped back to grab the jack, her blond hair hanging limply, as if mirroring her mood. Skyler hadn't said a word since the Chicago disaster ten days ago, when I became the legal guardian of my cousins. My mother couldn't be a legal caregiver anymore; she was permanently crippled and in a wheel chair, being taken care of by her second husband and some maids in one of New York, New York's finest residences. Skyler, nonetheless, was quieter then I had ever heard a six year old; usually you can't get them to shut up. This one… you can't get her to talk anymore. Hally's quieter too, but she still speaks sometimes. Grief, I suppose, can make even the youngest of us all cry. Hally gave me a shy smile as she dug around for my toolbox, the gentle red color of her hair bounced in the pigtails they had been set in.

I leaned out the window again and sighed, propping my chin up on top of the car. I needed my flat-head screwdriver to unbolt the spare tire from the back, the protection that would help lessen the damage if we were ever rear-ended. I had an epiphany and leaned my height back into the window. Skylar was just dumping the jack onto the seat, her soft face screwed up at the weight of it. "Hey, Sky, can you hand me the safety cones back there? The cones are bright orange; you can't miss them." She hefted one up to show my, arching a blond brow at me. Her soft green eyes were warm; even though it was obvious she wanted to cry. "That's them. There should be eight of them." She handed me them, and then wordlessly went back to hefting the jack over the seat.

Trotting down the road in front of the car, I put out my safety cones so folks could see us better; my caution lights don't work, and then did the same to the back. When I got back to the window, Hally was back cuddled up to her sister. I leaned in the window and fetched my stuff, the jack and toolbox, and then knelt to deposit them on the cement. Fishing out my tools, I then went back to get the tire. Rolling the round object back to my starting spot, I took out my Mag light, and then set it balanced on top of the box so it would shine where I needed it.

As I set to jacking up the cark, stuffing a block from my toolbox behind one of my back tires so that the jimmy didn't roll down and crush me flatter then a pancake, Hally poked her head out the window, the sleeves of her long sleeve shirt keeping her arms warm in the cold air. "Torrie?" She called my name, her voice soft and tentative. "Torrie? I'm hungry."

I paused in my jacking up the car, and then sighed softly. "Alright Hal. I don't have any money on me," or in my bank for that matter, "and there's no stores open. There should be a few packages of Jerky in the glove box though, and few bottles of water. Share with your sister, and its all yours."

Hally gave me another smile, her blue eyes just barely visible in the light from inside the car's cab. "Okay. Thanks Torrie. Do you want a bottle of water?"

I flashed her a tired half grin as I resumed cranking the jack up farther. "Nah, honey, its fine. If I get thirsty, I'll go dig out the Pepsi from under my seat."

"Okay…" As she ducked her head back in, presumably to get the munches from the glove box, I set myself down to see if the jack was high enough to push my self under to un-lodge anything that might have popped the tire, and so I could change it easier.

I fit just fine, and I set to changing out the tire rather fast. I've been mudding in this car more times then the number of years I've been alive, which is twenty four, and for every two times I've been mudding, I've blown a tire. Being a mechanic, owning my own shop and working my own hours, gives me free time to do really whatever the hell I want, so long as I get the job done. In record time, for me at least anyways, I had the bad tire off, and was starting to put on the new one.

Something metal fell out from beneath one of my shocks, and landed smack dab in the middle of my forehead. It wasn't sharp enough to hurt me much, but it did draw blood and probably leave a bruise in the middle of my noggin. The feel of it against my skin made me make a garbled sound at first, the metal hot and then cold, then hot again, probably my mind playing tricks on me though, and then I couldn't help but let out a child friendly curse. "Son of a mother truckers butt-crusty! What the hell was that?" I scooted out and set to searching for the offending item, one hand pressed to my forehead to soothe the throbbing starting in the middle of my face.

"Torrie?" I glanced up to see Skyler and Hally looking at me. I wasn't sure who spoke, but Hally spoke when I looked up. "Are you okay?" Smart six year olds, very smart six year olds. "You're bleeding!" Hally gasped. "You have a booboo!"

I grimaced slightly, and nodded. "Whatever popped our tire decided to try and give me a good smack too; Go back to the back seat girls, I'm fine."

Hally let off a small noise. "But you're bleeding…"

"Really, I'm fine." I said. I looked at Skyler, who was reaching a hand down to me. Sighing, I brought up the hand that wasn't clasping my forehead and wiped it on my shirt that was visible above the tied arms of my jumpsuit before grasping her hand. "Its alright, sweet things. I promise I'm fine; just a goose egg, alright?"

Skyler nodded silently and tugged her sister back, where I heard them resume snacking on the jerky.

I sighed and rubbed my head again, pulling my hand away to see the bleeding had stopped. I grunted and resumed my search, finding the piece of metal not far from where my head had been under the car. As my fingers brushed it, it shocked me, and I cursed again. "Fuck it all!" I snatched it anyways and pulled it out into the light of the mag. In the darkness, I couldn't really see all the details, only that it was strangely shaped, and seemed to have these symbol like grooves in it. The metal was dark, and one end was darker where my head had bled on it slightly. The only thing I could tell was that it was alien. Scowling, I tucked the metal shard, about the size of three of my fingers put together, into one of the chest pockets of my half zipped blue mechanics jumpsuit. Looks like the street repairmen hadn't gotten all the left over parts from the stupid alien war. This was probably a piece of some of their armor.

My heart throbbed when the thought of them brought to mind my cousins, and the fact that we had just lost a big chunk of my family. My uncle Scott and aunt Sara had been lost in the god damned alien fight in Chicago; if it hadn't been for the fact that my cousins had been on a field trip with their kindergarten class to a farm far outside the city, I would have lost them too. Anger scalded my insides, and fury took over, willing away any tears I wanted to grieve, or any screams I wanted to scream. I had to stay strong for my cousins, because there was no one else who could do it. My mother would be a mess, and my stepfather's an ass who probably thinks too high and mighty of himself and his job to care that he just lost his in-laws.

I wish those goddamned monsters had never fucking landed here; they ruined people's lives, even if they saved our world. My Mama taught me to accept all those different then our selves, for we are one in the same. But these… creatures have only brought misery to my family and me. For all I care, they could get sent to the smelter and be used as welding materials on the buildings that have to be repaired. My lip curled, and then I let my head drop against my car's fender, briefly letting myself grieve, before tucking it away behind me for later.

I would keep the piece as a rearview mirror decoration, so I would always carry around a piece of those bastards with me; something I could physically blame for all the troubles and nightmares my cousins would no doubt be having.

My head ached again due to the bang on the fender I gave it, grief and anger mixing together in a stomach churning mix, so I set to finishing re-attaching the spare tire. When the car was as good as new, no cars having passed us, I loaded up my tools and then fetched the cones. Lowering the car off the jack had been easy, as well as taking the block from behind the wheel, but when I loaded up the car, it had been the hardest thing ever to see my cousins huddled in the backseat. They were asleep, that much had been obvious by the drool on Hally's lower lip, but they were dreaming. Tears trickled from their eyes, and my mood darkened darker then the nighttime street outside.

Gently working around them, I wiggled everything in the back, the boxes that I had spent most of my paycheck on that held their bunk beds blocking up most of the space with their luggage taking up the rest, and then the tool-box under the seat. I took the jerky back and closed water bottles and set them in the seat before I started the car up and rolled out. I left my window down and the radio off, so I didn't wake them, and drove off my rage into the night.

It was a long drive home from the far side of Nevada to the Willamette valley; and even longer because I made it there before the sun began to rise. The wind kept me awake and thinking, as I dodged road kill, raccoons, opossums, the occasional loose sheep, and some cats on my way home.


	2. No Choice

(_**Thanks for the feed back folks! Glad I see so many of my readers from GIBTH! Anyways, enjoy the ninja-ness and stuff hat flows from the puddle of goop and slop that is my brain!**_

_**Yes, I do know that I seem to have an obsession with Oregon. It's the only state I know well, besides just taking a one-day trip through the desert of California and the water park of Wild waves in Washington.**_

_**Oh, and chapter lengths will vary. It all depends on the muse, the content, and everything else.**_)

When I pulled into the several mile long driveway, the Jimmy's shocks absorbing most of the bouncing from the rough and uneven gravel driveway, it was six o'clock in the morning. The sun just began to peek over the Snow Peak Mountains, the tall tops green with newly planted trees courtesy of the logging company who had logged it last year. Nearer the base was a set of virgin timber, one of the few left in Oregon State, and that timber was part of my property. My house, an old mobile home that sat at the far end of the driveway, was tucked just outside the main timber stand. A larger field extended across my property, hidden from the road by the encircling stands of tees, and when it came close to the end of summer, I usually leased it out so that someone could harvest the ever-growing grass from the damn thing. I never bothered with it, hadn't since my Grandpa died and left me the whole freaking property in his will, and sometimes the grass could get taller then my head. Isolated farther back, my house was perfect for my lifestyle; no one came to visit, and I had privacy while I worked on my client's cars.

Turning a small corner around a patch of trees, I caught sight of my auto-mechanics shop. The doors were propped open, guarding against the summer heat as I had no AC to keep me cool, and the nose of the navy blue Ford Explorer I was working on was visible. The shop itself was faded with a rather bland color of red, and the whole thing was actually an original style barn converted into my mechanics shop. The upper floor of the place held all of my tools, once it held tons and tons of hay for a several hundred head herd of Brangus cattle, and was accessible via a ladder that ran up one of my side support beams. In the upper floors, there were parts for all sorts of cars.

If it ran on four wheels, sometimes five or six if it was something large, I could fix it up given the time. On more then one occasion, I had done a couple of car jobs for some government folks, recommended to me by my great uncle Davis, who had been part of the CIA at one time. Begrudgingly I had done it; I don't like to associate with the government, but when you're a mechanic with the reputation of being the cheapest with the best jobs done, money is money and you don't turn it down. The only things I can't figure out how to fix include things like tanks, planes, and cranes. I had fixed a bobcat once, but that was because I still had my grandfathers Kubota tractor, and had compared parts for the hydraulics.

Pulling into the little hand built garage, I turned the keys and the rumbling lions purr of my jimmy's engine cut and died off as I put it in park. Sighing, I turned in my seat as I unbuckled. The twins were still passed out, sleeping cuddled with one another. Minutely, I noticed they hadn't buckled up again. Grunting, I opened the door and then turned on my heels to flip the seat forwards. Before I went to fetch them, I stretched my body. My joints felt all stoved up from not moving for so long, and my eyes were heavy with tiredness. Squeezing all two hundred and forty pounds of my six foot six height back there until all but my legs and waist was in there, I scooped up the girls softly. They turned, like little monkeys, and looped their arms around me, clinging to me as I hefted them up. When I drew them carefully from the seats and out of the car, they looped their legs around my legs and nuzzled my neck.

Packing them up the small flight of steps that lead to the deck in front of my house was easy; opening the door without dropping them was not. Thankfully, I've developed a way to twist the flat handle part of it with the toe of my foot so I can just shove it past the door jam and open it. When I was in, shutting the door with my toes again, I padded down the hall to my room. I bypassed the one they would be staying in, due to the fact that there really wasn't much there besides some boxes and two dressers, and then when I got to my room, I used my foot again to turn on the box fan. It would keep them cool and provide some noise for them.

I flipped back the first blanket quickly, a thin but fuzzy and soft covering with beautiful gray wolves on it, and then shifted Skyler to let her down first. Her green eyes flickered open, bleary with sleep, and she let off a soft childish whine. "Its alright, Skyler." I soothed softly. "We're at our home now. I've got some work to do," I also needed to build their beds and unload the car, "but your sister is with you. Go back to sleep with Hally, alright?" I lowered the small red head down to lay next to her sister, and Skyler gave it no extra time to loop her arms around her sisters ribs and go back to sleep. Hally never woke up, sleeping tiredly and deeply.

After flipping the covers back over them, I stood and pressed my hands to my eyes. They ached, my eyes, that is, with the need to sleep and the need to just break down and cry, but now that I had someone who actually would depend on me to provide them with the things they want and need, I couldn't afford to slack off. Not with something akin to thirty dollars in my checking account and even less in my savings account; all of it had gone to getting the girls their bunk beds. Good thing the explorer was almost done; just some problems with the alternator and the power steering. It was also a good thing that the races were tonight; I'd win again this time like I usually did.

Before I left the room, I pulled my old stuffed animal, a faded and dirty teddy bear that I had gotten when I was four, and set her down near the girls. Skyler groped for her and tugged her close, and I gave a soft smile. Bell, my bear, would be a good coping pillow for them at the moment.

Trudging back down the hallway, snagging a clean undershirt from the dryer and changing shirts so I wouldn't feel as nasty, I went to the refrigerator. There were a lot of healthy things in there; milk, eggs, iced tea, some juice, and cheese among other things. I reached into the back and pulled out a Red Bull and downed all twenty-four ounces of it in a few minutes. Setting the can on the counter to cashed in for the five-cent deposit later, I pulled a banana from the counter and peeled it. Taking my gallon jug that I used for toting drinks out with me to work, I filled it with ice tea as I ate my banana.

I went back to the bathroom and gently checked my forehead. That shard of whatever the hell had hit me left a bruise and a nice little cut. Slapping a band-aid on it, I put on some deodorant and then left to continue with my chores.

After unloading the car and leaving all the stuff in the girl's room-to-be, I trudged down to the barn. I went to the desk that held all of my papers and numbers and grumbled softly as I looked through the stack after plopping my jug of tea down. I had some government cars coming in a week from now, apparently some of the agents had been waiting to contact me because of the whole Chicago incident, and under it, the list of possible problems that the agencies people listed for me continued to grow. It was probably none of these that were wrong with the cars; most of the agents couldn't really tell the carburetor from the radiator.

I needed to call the man and woman who owned the Explorer for one of them to come pick it up in the afternoon; it wouldn't be soon before I finished it. I just have to fix a small leak in the power steering fluid lines; everything else is done. Setting out to do just that, I snagged a dirty pair of specially altered safety eyeglasses and then snagged my scooter board and toolbox. The 'specially altered' bit meant that I had taken duck-tape and taped a small but powerfully bright flashlight the size of my middle finger to one of the ear loopy things. For me, it was easier to get to the lines from under the engine block. Slipping under, I raised a hand and turned on my glasses light. Peering up and rummaging for the tools I needed, I set to fixing the leak. It turns out that the whole line had been bad, very bad, so I had to go digging for another line in my bottomless pit of parts upstairs. Finally, I just decided to do my usual Frankenstein engine thing, and pull one of the lines from one of the toasted engines I used for spare parts to put in the Explorer.

It was around ten when I finished on the car. By ten, the heat had become almost unbearable. So much so, in fact, I swear I was hallucinating as I heard a car pull up. As I crawled out from under the car, the phone, an old corded phone attached to a landline, so that even if the power went out, we would still be able to make calls. I sincerely considered letting it ring until it went to the answering machine, but decided against it. I needed the money, especially when summer comes to an end. I'll have to put the girls into school; supplies, gas money, and school clothes are going to be needed. I sighed, scrambling to get to the phone before the third ring.

"Hello?" I wiped my hands on my pants, the phone tucked into the groove of my shoulder as I answered. "Evans Mechanics, Torrie Evans here. How may I help you?"

"Ah, Ms. Evans, glad I could catch you. I hope I didn't interrupt anything and that you weren't busy?" The familiar voice of one of the government boys that usually handled business with me sounded in my ear. His voice was deep and had a pleasant rumbled too it, though it usually set me on edge, as if he was always trying to keep people calm. He was sly too; often he'd gotten me to do things I didn't want to do with blackmail; something akin to ruining my reputation with a fake arrest for drugs and police officer assault. I had wanted to assault _him_ all right… I hate dealing with agents.

"Ah, no, I wasn't busy. Just finishing up some work; I just got back from Chicago." I answered. "How can I help you this time, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckled. "Come now, Ms. Evans. I've been doing business with your family since you were a tot; you can call me John."

I gave a dry chuckle and took a drink of my tea, moving to sit in the lawn chair that served as my desk chair. "Now, Mr. Miller, you claim to know me so long," which he did in fact, know me since I was eight, "you should also know I don't call any agent by their first names."

"Ah yes," he chortled. "I'm still hoping you'll grow out of this 'don't trust the government' age. I'm still waiting too."

"Don't count on it." I sighed. "Cut to the chase, Mr. Miller. What can I do to help you this time? Need one of your cars fixed?"

"No, not really." He answered. "Something a little more wild and crazy; uber-strangely awesome as my niece often used."

"New age sayings are unbecoming of you." I arched a brow. "Alright… I'll bite. What could a _government agent_ possibly want with a simple little civilian like me?"

"Can I talk to you face to face?"

I blinked. "Okay, you're wherever the hell you are, and I'm way up here in Oregon. How do you plan to manage that? I don't have a computer for any of your little conference things." That was a lie. I had one, but all it had was spider solitaire and Internet so I can order my parts for cars online if I don't have time to run to town. "Want to meet at some sort of café? McDonalds? Taco Bell?" The line went dead before I got an answer, and I cursed my luck. "Well, fuck. There goes my business."

"Not quite, Ms. Evans." Mr. Miller sounded out from the door.

I nearly toppled out of my chair, but stood up and scowled at him. "Who, exactly, gave you the right to trespass on posted private property without permission?"

He flashed me his badge. "This shiny trinket did."

I narrowed my eyes and sighed. Walking forwards, I rubbed sweat off my palms on my pants. "I'd shake hands, but I don't want to get you greasy." I kept walking until he was backed completely out of the barn, and then I stood in the doorway, barring it from his unwanted entry. Behind him, parked caddy corner to my Kubota, was a silver Pontiac Solstice, idling almost silently and yet innocently in the driveway. The windows were dark, so I couldn't see anything inside the vehicle with the sun shining how it was.

"Fair enough." He spoke. John was a short man, but his shoulders were broad, and he was fit, very fit, for being fifty-eight. At something along the lines of being five foot eight inches or so, John was stocky. His face had wrinkles, but his brown eyes still sparkled with something caught in the middle of kindness, and being too good at his job. His hair was short, a buzz cut, but he was blond, so the grays in his hair didn't show much. John had been a good friend of my Uncle, and most of my family, save my grandmother, who hated the government just as much as I did. She thought they were all greedy and slimy bastards. So do I.

I crossed my arms, looking down the several inches that separated our height. Usually, when I adopted this stance, it made folks nervous. I suppose, if I were average height and being looked down upon by a stranger who stood just a hair over six foot six, I'd be intimidated too. Really though, I don't like using violence unless I'm given no other choice. "What do you want, John?"

"There we go," he smiled, white teeth showing as he plopped his hands into his pockets. "You know my first name."

I bared my teeth at him. "Get to the point please. I'm not very happy with you, and I'm under a lot of stress right now." Much, much stress."

"Alright." He spoke. "Since I'm assuming you got back from Chicago because you were picking up your cousins, I can assume you know about the Autobots and the Decepticons. I am sorry for your loss, by the way. Scott and Sara were good people."

My eyebrows puckered and my face tightened. "Yes they were. Get on with your point, Mr. Miller."

"Sore spot I assume?" He asked a redundant question, and I didn't answer him. John cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, yes. A'hem. Anyways, the Autobots head quarters in DC were destroyed by a defector, and now they don't have anywhere else to go. SO, I'm asking you," he pulled up a charming smile, "If we could have them stay on your property until we can get a fitting base established for them."

Rage tricked into my heart again. "No." I blurted out. "Not happening." Behind him, the car's tire shifted, as if someone had leaned on the wheel.

The smile on Johns face stayed, albeit looking a little less genuine. "Now, we're willing to compensate you for their stay." He fished around in his pockets and pulled out a checkbook and a pen. He started scribbling things out. "I think this should do. What do you say now?" he flashed me the check. "I know you desperately need the money to help raise the two six year olds now under your guardianship, so this should help get you started."

There were no decimals on it yet, but it had ten thousand dollars written on it. Those ten thousand would help a lot… "No." I said firmly. "Not happening. Its never happening." I tightened my eyes. He turned the check back and scribbled some more, then turned it back, another zero added to make it one hundred thousand dollars. "No." I scowled.

One hundred thousand became a million; I had no doubt that they would pay, but I didn't know if I would ever have to pay them back. "No. Please leave now; I'll finish your cars when they get here, but I wont do any more business with your kind for a while. Please," I said, clearly fake politeness heard in my voice. "Leave my land now."

John sighed and crumpled up the check and stuck it in his pocket. He scribbled out another and left it tucked up his sleeve. "We wouldn't have asked you, but you were the only one left on our list of trustable people who we could guarantee that the Autobots would be treated respectably while we made them a new home."

I clenched my jaw muscles and thought about popping his shiny Solstices tires; the only thing that kept me from doing that, would be he would have no ride to leave, and I would need to give him a free repair for him to go away. "I don't care. You probably have others that you can ship them off too. Ship them to Beijing for all I care."

"We don't have anyone else, and we can't ship them out of the country. That would be rude and ungrateful." John answered my rhetorical words. "You are the last on our list; no one else had the space that you do for them to spread out and be able to walk around, and those who did have some space didn't have the privacy and isolation that your land has. Of course, there's also the fact that none of them really wanted anything to do with the Autobots; those who didn't mind them didn't have the space."

I threw my hands up and out in a decidedly angry and aggressive gesture. "I don't want them ether! Now go away and go bother someone else for your petty problems! The Junkyard some thirty miles down would melt them down quite nicely for scrap and recycling!"

His face lost his smile entirely. "You should care." He said. "There are some things that can be done to ensure your cooperation. We can make your life worse."

I stiffened, fisting my hands down at my sides. "Oh?" I asked, anger present in my voice. "Tell me, _Mr. Miller_, what could you possibly do now? Hm? You've already threatened to ruin my reputation unjustly, on many occasions. What worse can be done, because I don't give a rats ass about my reputation so long as I don't have those fucking monsters," the wheel on the car twitched again. "On or anywhere near my property. They've ruined my family's life enough."

His brown eyes seemed to harden, and he spoke. "I can take your cousins away from you and make it so you can never see or find them again."

Before I knew what took over my mind, I had fisted my large hands in his jacket and spun us around, pinning him to the door hard enough that the wood frame rattled. I bared my teeth at him, anger and worry settling in my heart. "You try, and I swear by my mothers life, I will kill you before you get the chance. They are my family; you _don't_," I pulled him back and slammed him down again, "_Threaten_," again I slammed his shoulders. He let me though, a smug and grim smile breaking on his face. He didn't try and get away. "_My family._" Letting him go, I turned and stalked back to the doorway. Bracing my head on the doorframe, I slammed my head on it three times to cool off my temper. The band-aid took the force of the smacks, but it still rattled my brain enough to clear away the fog of anger and leave behind a thick miasma of worry. "Don't do it John…" I said tiredly, a plea in my voice. "Don't take them from me. I'm all they have left, since my mother can't care for them."

Turning back, I saw him dusting off his jacket and pants nonchalantly, as if a girl who towered over him and was half his age hadn't used her anger to slam him into a door. "You know, if I were any other agent, and if I didn't know you got your grandmothers temper, I'd have you arrested for assaulting a federal agent." He said dryly. "I don't _want_ to take them away from you. You forget, Torrie, I knew your family long before you knew me. If it took them, your grandparents would be rolling in their graves, and will probably give me the ear full of a life time when I die of old age." John sighed. "But, if the government doesn't get what it wants, then that _is_ what will happen. You know this. It wasn't a threat; not so much anyway. It was an option, though. An option that many folks still refused."

I pressed a dirty hand to my eyes again. "I know." I said thickly. "I know." I inhaled and sighed.

"You haven't given yourself time to grieve, have you?" John asked softly.

I gave a dry and humorless chuckle. "No. As soon as I heard about my cousins and the fate of my Aunt and Uncle, I was rushing off to Chicago as fast as I could get my jimmy to go. I've been on the run since then, stopping in mission city to pick up a nice set of beds with my savings. I can't bring my self to cry when those kids need me to be strong for them."

With a wisdom born of old age, John wisely kept out of range when he spoke. "If you have no strength to give them, then how do you ever expect to be a good guardian for them?"

"I don't know."

"Now, are you willing to keep the Autobots here?" John asked. Determined fucker.

"Yeah." I said humorlessly. "Sure. Why the fucking hell not? Its not like my cousins aren't going to be terrified of them, and will probably hate my guts for giving in. But sure. Why the hell not?"

Dryly, John sighed. "Alright. The Autobots are good alien folks; honorable. They'll help you if you need it."

My face twisted slightly and I furrowed my brows. "I want nothing to do with them; I'm not asking for their help."

"Regardless," he continued. "They'll probably try and help, at least some of them anyways, whether or not you ask for it." Great…

"How long will they be here?" I asked.

"I don't know." He answered truthfully. "Could be anywhere from a month to three months or more. They could even be here for a year or two; it depends on how long it takes us to construct a place for them to be comfortable. Who knows;" John continued ruefully. "If the head of the government deems this place to be good; they may even seize part of your land to build on, so they could possibly be here permanently." At my scalding look, he shrugged. "I'll try and steer them away."

"You do that…"

"I will." He said. Walking forwards, John tucked something into my fisted up hand. "Here. It's not much, but it'll get those kids something nice. It's from my bank account, though, so you don't have to worry about any back debts from any government assholes."

I didn't look up at him, but as he was turning away, I asked one last question. "When do they get here?" I needed to prepare… myself and Skyler and Hally, though I'm not sure who needed to be prepared the most.

"Three weeks from now, they'll be shipped down here for a social event so that they can get to know the public a bit better, so that there are less folks like you who have undesirable feelings towards them." He answered. "Now, if you'll excuse me; I need to go. My boss is expecting me, and you have some grieving and work to do, don't you?" he thrummed. "We'll ship the cars we need you to fix with the Autobots, so don't expect the cars until three weeks from now."

I sighed. "All right. All right. Please go now, John. Just… leave us alone." John left without saying another word, the Solstice he was driving moving almost soundlessly down the gravel road. I turned back into the barn and shut the door with a mighty shove. Then I let loose. I didn't scream, no, that would have woken Skyler and Hally, but I cried, and I wailed, taking out my anger and grief on a rather dented crowbar. I beat at one of the support beams until my fingers could no longer hold the crowbar, and my eyes could no longer see anything past the sea of tears from my eyes. Then I sat down and cried into my jumpsuit.

When all was said and done, I felt better, stronger, less full of hurt then I had when I had been driving home. Then, and only then, did I look at the wrinkled check held tightly in my hands. Wiping my eyes and nose with the sleeves of my jumpsuit, my snot nastily sticking there, I took a better look. It wasn't as bleary, and I could make out he numbers. Five thousand dollars. It wasn't much, as he had said, but it was enough to get me started. Tonight, I would race for the winnings, and then hopefully add another six or seven thousand to that five thousand.

Tucking the check into my pocket, I stood up and then kicked the dented crowbar away. Stalking to my desk, I used some tissues and blew my nose before I went and opened the doors again. When the fresh and cool breeze hit me, I sighed, trying not to let the impending approach of the Autobots ruffle my theoretical feathers again. Turning one more, I plodded to the desk where my phone was, and then dialed up the owner of the Explorer.

"Ah, yes, Mrs. Morgan! Good afternoon. Your Explorers fixed, and ready for you to pick it up. Yes. Yes. Thanks for your concern, and I appreciate your sentiments. Aunt Sara always loved your cookies. Mmhmm. Can you come get your car by, oh, one or two? I have something I need to do later and- Sure, Mrs. Morgan. I'm sure the girls would love some cookies. Last I knew, they liked Peanut butter cookies, but they'll probably eat anything that you bring for them. How's Mr. Morgan? Ah- tinkering with that windmill again? Is he ever going to get that thing working?"

We talked for a bit; Mrs. Morgan was a sweet elderly lady who lives with her husband about six miles outside of Tangent. She knew why I was gone; I had to call and tell her I would be late fixing her car. When she had to go, I hung up and then rubbed my eyes again.

"Torrie?" Hally called softly from the barn door. Her voice warbled slightly, filled with tears. "Torrie, we had a scary dream. It was those robots again… the ones who…" she let out a soft sob, hiccupping as well.

Without saying a word, I turned and knelt, holding out my arms. Within a few second, I had a little redheaded and a little blind six year old clinging around my neck, Bell the bear hanging from Skyler's spare hand. I scooped them up and cooed softly, toting them back to the house. "Its alright kiddos. They aren't here anymore, and you wont see the bad ones ever again." Skyler let out a soft hiccupping sob, snotting down my shirt. I cooed softly and rubbed their backs soothingly, like my Mother did when I had a bad dream as a child.

I sighed softly and got us back inside. The house was about ten degrees cooler inside then outside, and I set to making them some oatmeal from the cupboards after depositing them on the kitchen table so they could stay close and see what I was doing. "Lets get you girls fed; then we'll all go lay down for a bit. I'll scare away all the bad dreams, okay? Besides, we all want to look our best, don't we? Mrs. Morgan's bringing cookies.


	3. What Must Be Done

(_**Heya all, glad you liked the last chapter. This might be the last chapter for a few days, 'cause I have an event I'm working on Saturday, and its from 5:30 am to 11:30 pm. I'm going to be tired, very tired.**_

_**Further news; Dawnguard, the DLC pack for Skyrim, is epic! Sure, your character walks like a hagraven on steroids and acid when in your Vampire lord form, but the fact that you don't change back in a set amount of time rocks! And you can FLY! Its f-ing epic!**_

_**Pardon the sleepy six year old children's grammar. They're not old enough to know the difference yet!**_

_**Again, some will be short, some will be long, it depends on the muse, and how tired I am. I'm very tired this morning. Never, though, will it be less then one thousand words. I don't like doing chapters like that. :/**_

_**Without further brainfarts, here's the third chapter. Enjoy~)**_

I sat on the couch for a long time before I fell asleep with Hally and Skyler tucked into my lap. I woke up when the doorbell rang. Something had made my leg uncomfortable, and I found that shard of metal in there. I left it there, planning on putting it in my car later, and then I had to scoop up both sleepy girls so I could answer the door. They wouldn't let go of my legs when I tried to leave. Silly, clingy six year olds. When I hefted all three of us off the couch, Hally cracked open her eyes to peer at me. She made a soft noise, but didn't move.

Walking to the door, I managed to get it open. On the outside was Mrs. Morgan; her other car was outside with her husband behind the wheel. In her hands she held a platter of peanut butter and chocolate chip cookies, the saran wrap around the top was steamy as if the cookies were fresh from the oven. Knowing Mrs. Morgan, they probably were. "Hi Mrs. Morgan." I greeted her with a half yawn. "Sorry about that. I must have fallen asleep with the kiddos."

"Its alright, dear." She smiled kindly at me and jangled her Explorers keys in her hand under the platter. "I see you left them in the usual spot, Torrie." She chuckled softly. "You have your arms full; can I come in to put these on your table?"

My table was a mess, but the counter would do. "Sure." I stepped back. "The counter would be best though; I have some stuff on the table." All over the table. The only spots saved from the horrific mess were where my cousins had sat their little buts while I fed them earlier. "I haven't had time to clean up the house; I left in a rush."

She just smiled. "I know the feeling." She slipped inside, her head just barely grazing the bottom of my breasts. "I did raise eleven boys." She sighed softly, gently setting the platter on the counter. Turning, she gave me a wide grin, her dentures a spotless white. "SO, when do you plan to have kids of your own?"

I arched a brow in turn, bouncing Skyler slightly as she tried to groggily wake up. The smell of the cookies was making my stomach rumble a bit. "Legally, these two are now my kids." I chirped. "But, if you talking about settling down and popping out my own giant babies, then I don't know. I like my solitude down here."

She motioned with a long and bony hand out to the groggy girls on my hips. "That's not solitude. You know, I could see if my grandson- you remember Ian don't you? – Would like to go on a date with you."

I shook my head. "Nah, its alright. I'm going to have my hands full keeping these two happy, and keeping the income coming so that they'll be able to have things that I didn't as a kid. I don't think my life, added stress counted, could deal with balancing a boyfriend; no offense Mrs. Morgan."

"Please, call me Nana." That was her first name. Nana Morgan. Her name as a child, before she got hitched, had been Nana McRueger. "I've known you since you were toddling around eating worms; not the candy kind ether. Don't worry, darling. Eventually you'll find the right man who'll be able to put up with your love of private time, and the fact you don't like to be bothered when your working."

"Torrie ate wormies?" Hally asked sleepily. "That's yucky, Torrie… Mama said never eat it if it wiggles and squiggles in your mouth."

I chuckled softly. "I was younger then you, kiddo, and I didn't really have much of a brain at that age." There had been the litter box incident…

"Hmmm." She mumbled into my shoulder. "Then you was like the Scarecrow from the Wizard of snozz."

"Wizard of Oz, sweet heart." I corrected softly. "Snozz is another word for nose."

"Mmm."

I chuckled. Nana just kept smiling softly, as if fondly remembering her own children at this age. I chuckled softly, and then pondered a problem that popped into my head. I would need someone to watch the twins for me tonight; I wasn't about to leave them alone when I would be out earning money. "Hey Nana? Would you mind watching the twins for me?"

The smile on her face froze, but she nodded. "Of course. Darryl and I would love to watch them for a while. How long do you think?"

I averted my eyes guiltily but shrugged softly, making Skyler make a soft noise of disproval. "I don't know, Nana. Sometime late tonight, provided everything goes well."

She nodded softly. "Alright." She flicked her eyes to the kids briefly and then towards the back of the house.

Getting the message, I gently set down the twins. "Alright, sweeties. You'll be going with Mrs. Morgan and Mr. Morgan for a while. Go pack some stuff please, I'll be there in a minute or two to help you."

Skyler hesitated, but moved away, Bell clutched still in her hand. Hally, though, looked up at me with big blue eyes. "Did we do bad?" she asked. "IS that why you're sending us bye-bye?"

I ruffled her mussed up hair softly and bent to press a kiss to her forehead. "Never, sweet thing. I have some work to do tonight, and I wont be up at the property to be with the both of you. I don't want you both to be left alone, so I thought you'd like to go with Mrs. Morgan. She bakes the best cakes and cookies on this side of Linn County; she always takes first place for her pies in Linn county fair. Perhaps, if you're nice and butter her up, she'll make you one or two." Hally's eyes got really big in the happy six year old expression I hadn't seen since before her parents bit the dust. She clapped an excited set of hands over her mouth and then bounced down the hall, almost literally, so she could go pack. Dryly, as I stood, I smirked. "I guess kids love pie."

Mrs. Morgan's tennis shoe tapped on the linoleum tiles of the kitchen floor. "Your racing again." She fixed me a decidedly bland look. "I thought you had quit doing that."

I shifted and rubbed my elbow. "I did for a while. A few months." I lied. It had been around three weeks before I had started again. There was only one every week, two if we racers got lucky. "The shop just doesn't make a whole buuko amount of money, and now that I'm taking care of family who's used to having more stuff then I did as a kid, I need to be able to provide the necessities for them." I pulled out the check from John Miller. "Look, Nana. Fie thousand dollars, and a good chunk of that is going to go into back-bills for paying off car parts. I still need to buy the mattresses and bedding for Skyler and Hally's bunk beds."

She tapped her foot and fixed me with a stern motherly look. "You could ask; I could lend you some of my funds, and Darryl would too."

I shook my head. "No, Nana. I'm not taking your retirement funds. We'll pull by; we always do." I gave her a soft smile. "Besides, I'm twenty four. I've been racing since I was what, sixteen?"

"Fifteen." She corrected. "Illegally, even more so then the actual races, so you could help pay for your grandpa's shoulder surgery."

"Exactly." I emphasized the word. "I was fifteen at my first race. That was nine years ago; nine years of perfecting my skill at racing. It'll be ten years this September. I know how to handle Lady J," the name I had given to my Jimmy when I addressed others. That was also my racing name; Lady J. "I can turn her and drift all of her bulk around in the fields without hitting the trees or flipping her. I haven't ever wrecked before ether. We've had this discussion before, though I have the feeling it'll never stop, so I'll be fine, Nana."

She sighed at me. "Your damn right it wont stop until you quit racing. I worry, you know; who'll take care of these kids if _you_ die too? Who will raise them right? And who would fix my Explorer if Darryl messes with the drive lines and axles again?"

I shrugged softly. "I don't know. But don't jinx me now, Nana. You know the luck streak us Evans' have."

"Twirl around death so much that he just leaves the lot of you alone, I know." She grunted at me again. "This has to be the last one. Promise me, Torrie. This is the last race."

"I cant promise you anything, Nana." I answered truthfully. "I don't like to make myself out to be a liar; I'm going to race to feed my family. What must be done will be done."

"There's no changing your mind, is there?"

"No."

"Mrs. Morgan!" Hally came bustling down the hall with a bag of packed cloths. The bag looked a little big for just one six year old, but Skyler came into view, pushing the back from behind as her sister pulled it. "Pie! Please?"

The scowl had faced from her face the second that Hally's voice had pierced the air. "Hmm. Only if you both help me make it. I'm getting old you know, pie making is such a pain in the butt."

"Liar." I whispered. "You could make them in your sleep."

"I know," Nana whispered back. "This isn't over, Torrie. Not by a long shot." She motioned over to the kids. "Now," she said in a louder voice. "Why don't you, Torrie, load that in the back of the Explorer for me." I chuckled softly and did as she told me, loading it up in to the back of the suburban vehicle. As I was doing that, Mrs. Morgan was loading the little twin girls into the back seat, securing them safely in with the seatbelts.

I got snuggled by the girls when I leaned in to say goodbye. "I'll see you both later, alright?"

"Okay." Hally said softly, a smile on her face. "You sure you wan' us to go with Nanana?" there was something tentative in her eyes. An inkling of fear. "Couldn't we go with you?"

"Nope, kiddos. This is a strictly adult thing I'm off to do." I chuckled softly. "Silly girls. She's not going to eat you, if that's what your thinking. She's as harmless as a baby deer."

"They bite, though." Hally piped up.

I gathered both girls closer and when whispered softly. "Now now, don't tell her it was me that odl you, but she doesn't have any real teeth. They all fell out!"

Hally gaped at me. "But she smiled at us! She has teef!"

Nana took that moment to lean into the back, holding her dentures. "Theee?" she clacked then softly. "Fake teephf. Haf too mahny cahndies as a kid." She popped the back in her mouth, having made Hally giggle when Nana had spoke. Nana had made her teeth clack each time she said something.

"See? The worst she can do is slobber on your little fingers." Skyler giggled softly too, and I couldn't help but smile. "Alright," I kissed each of them on the head again. "I'll see you all soon."

As they pulled away, I got waves from the kids. I watched the car go until I couldn't see it anymore, and then I sighed. Trudging to my work-barn again, I got out some wire and wire cutters. When I had those, I pulled the metal shard from my pocket and started winding the metal around it, and through a couple holes I found. When I was done, I tied some thin and easily pliable metal cord to it, and went to put it on my rearview mirror. The metal was warm and humming as I fingered it, and my lip curled softly. It made no sense to have something I hated up there. But, the reason I put it up there was because, admittedly, it looked awesome, and if it was there, I would see it every day and it would be a forever reminder of what was done to my family, and the planet I live on.

Going back to the house, I set to cleaning myself up and laying out my racing outfit. When the sun began to go down, I started dressing in my garbs.


	4. Bullet In The Night

(_**Hey folks, sorry for the wait, but I guess ya'll are used to it now, eh? Well, anyway, this'll be the last update for a few days again. I work tomorrow, unfortunately, so I won't be home until late, like 12am or 1:30am, and I won't have the energy to update for a while.**_

_**Mistakes are PrimeScreamrs fault, 'cause he helps me stay awake at night by doing yoga on my keyboard or stealing my tea.**_

_**Tis' short, I know, but I'm tired, and I'll do the Race next. I don't have it in me to do the race now, since so much happens during and after the damn thing.**_

_**Enjoy Ch 4 of OITS~**_)

I tucked my hair up inside my helmet, as I pulled into the Linn-Benton Community College in Sweet Home, in one of the farthest parking lots from the main campus buildings. My leather gloves squeaked slightly against the black full-face customized motorcycle helmet as I clipped the detachable facemask to it. I had to wait in line with cars who were parking so they could tune into the radio station and listen to the race as they watched it on a big screen Projector, where multiple screens with various cameras were visible, so I used that time to look in my rearview mirror and run my hands over the helmet and make sure all the antennas that my Uncle had specially made for me were in order.

It was one of the few things Uncle Scott had given me that he had specially designed himself; where I am a mechanic, he _was_ a technological genius. I checked the two side antennas, gently flipping the channels so that it was tuned to my CB, which was hooked to my Jimmy. Using one, I turned the music on low in my little side set radio, so I could barely hear it. Further up, near the white-ridged stripe that ran down the middle of my helmet, there were two extra little antennas. They were mostly for decoration, and did little else except occasionally change positions with the settings on random. The one way black-tinted glass that served as my line of sight glinted coldly back at me from the mirror, mirroring my feelings for the shard that hung below the reflective glass.

Using the mirror, I buttoned a few more buttons on the top of my jacket, and then zipped up the zipper beneath it. The leather was worn and thick, a faded black color, fitting since I had been given it when I was fourteen and had stopped officially growing. Ten years old, and the leather is still in good condition thanks to various leather conditioners and other things. Carefully pulling out my eight-dollar wall-mart cell phone, I checked the time. The races should be starting in ten minutes, but with Tommy, that means the races started thirty minutes ago. He hates it when I make him wait. I stuffed it back into my jacket pocket, running my gloved hand over the soft and tight leather of my pants. I drummed my fingers on my knee as I waited for the car ahead of me, an old rusty Subaru that needed a lot of work, to pull ahead.

I mentally went over my checklist for racing. I had put the false license plate over my car's plates, so that if the cops interrupted us, when I made my escape, they couldn't find me. I'm in my racing suit, I've got all recognizable things in my car tucked away, and I've got the CB hooked up. Everything was in order. When I had room, I slipped the Jimmy through the crowd to the spot of the racing contestants. I pulled up next to the announcers' booth, as was my usual take off point, and rolled down the window, shifting my head out the window to look at the announcer.

"Ah!" Tommy Burns, the announcer and the man who funded the whole race because he was a filthy stinking rich-boy who had nothing better to do then spend his inheritance money on illegal racing, looked down at me with a grin while he fiddled with some equipment. He knew who I really was, but we'd both agreed to keep my identity on the low-down so that there weren't any disgruntled racers who would track me down. I got special perks because I'm usually the one he sends his cars to when he wrecks them. "Lady J!" he chirped, his blue eyes sparkling down at me. Stroking his goatee thoughtfully, he turned to the microphone for the announcements. Turning his lips to the microphone, he ran a hand over the Pikachu hat that covered the shaved dome of his skull and then tugged down the back of his tie-dye t-shirt so it covered his cargo pants.

"Well, folks, looks to me like the last contestant has finally showed up. Little Miss Lady J was late as usual, but it looks like she's back from whereever the fuck she disappeared too! Where'd you go girl? Mars?" I said nothing, just simply drummed my fingers on the side of my door. I never spoke to anyone during the races. Never have, never will. "Still going for the mysterious woman act?" only to the people who didn't know me. "Bah. One day, Lady J, mark my words. We'll get you to make some sort of noise that isn't a grunt or some sort of cough or sneeze!"

I canted my head to the side, motioning to the clearing pathways so he would hurry up. Tommy seemed to get my message, so he was quick to usher folks along. "Alright, alright, everyone off the tracks! The race will be beginning in just a few minutes, so let me lay down the rules." He cleared his throat into the microphone. "For those of you racing, turn your Radio's to 108.9, and those of you with the CB's installed in your rides, click those channels to number 21! Now, those racing are not to turn off your radios or CB's, because we'll use this as communications so that you all will be safe. Also, today I managed to talk to some connections, and they've cleared the surrounding several miles of Police, so we're fully cleared to go max speed the whole way without fear of the damn PoPo catching wind of us." This derived a massive cheer from the surrounding people, so loud is drowned out Tommy's own cheering through the large subwoofer like speakers that he was using. "Now, there will be no car ramming, simply because I don't care to watch such nice cars get damaged, and there will be no foul play. Remember, we have cameras everywhere on the track; we're watching you. NOS is allowed, but tacks falling from the back of your car is not."

Leaning over in my seat as he rambled off a bunch of other rules that I had heard many a time, I got myself my bottle of water and took a drink after removing my lower face guard. "Alright," Tommy cheered into the microphone. "All you racers out there better be paying attention, especially if you want the jack-pot bonus money amount to be yours tonight! You're racing for twelve thousand dollars. For some of you, that means a lot, and for others, like Jason over there in his little Volvo, it means nothing but bragging rights, eh Jason?"

Over the CB, from a Volvo that was at the end of the line, came Jason's voice. Jason was a regular racer, and never usually won. He just does it for the hell of it, and so that he can go brag to all the girls about how he got second or third. "Right you are, Tommy-boy."

"Boy," Tommy's voice was chipper with heavy amusement. "I could fuck you up. I've got ten years on you, so you cant call me boy!"

There was a chuckle, but no answer.

Tommy continued. "Anyways, You'll start here, go down South Santiam towards Lebanon, and then turn on Waterloo Road. Follow 'Loo Road, and take a left on Berlin after you've gone past the bridge. Follow Berlin for a while, then turn on East Grant Street, and then turn back onto East Santiam. Go through Lebanon, and come back here. The first to get here again wins twelve thousand big ones!"

Another cheer rose up.

"Ladies and gentlemen, monkeys too, if you're out there watching and listening to this, let me introduce you to the contestants for this race! We've got some new drivers this time, but we've got some older ones too!" Tommy went off to list my racing name, and about twenty-five other ones as well. Next to me was a dark green Poniac, some type that I wasn't familiar with, and from there it went onto a blue Corvette, a burgundy Camaro, yellow Buggati, about ten different types and makes of Subaru, five different types of truck, and some various cars from Ford. There was even a Ford Windstar Minivan, revving its engine coolly down near the Volvo on the end.

I revved my car's engine, the deep rumbling roar of the engine that was much too large for the car vibrating up my calves. The Gas tank read at full; and the speedometer topped out at ninety. I let a grin take over my face as I fondly stroked the steering wheel. The car went far over ninety, even farther with my NOS, but that was because the engine was hand built by yours truly, and designed to race fast, even though the engine weighted down the whole rig by at least half a ton. My fingers itched to flip the NOS switch, to shoot off before the air horn, but I resisted.

"Now, with the air horn, you can all shoot off and give us one hell of a show! Remember, there might be extra prize money for those of you who impress me with your driving skills, and your speed. Perhaps even the clever uses of NOS."

Keeping my foot on the break, I revved the engine. The Jimmy roared and the force of the roar shook the hood of the car.

Tommy let out a cackle, his voice reverberating through my CB. "Looks like Lady J is eager to start this race. Joseph! Blow the horn, man, the horn! We've kept these people waiting long enough!"

There was a loud horn sound, similar to a smaller foghorn on a boat, and then my foot left the break. The jimmy surged forwards like a Clydesdale among race horses and pony's, falling behind rather quickly, though the speed started to go up on the speedometer. I never went past fifteenth place. As we cleared the streets of Sweet Home, the real race began.

"And like bullets from the gun of some psychopath, they're off in a flash!" Through the CB, I could hear Tommy. "Lady J starts off rough like usual, but she's gaining quickly on Big G, his little Subaru doesn't stand a chance to the raw, beastial power of that machine of Lady J's. Ahh, man, if Lady J's car was a human and not a car, I would sooooo do her. Perhaps Lady J herself as well. Sounds like a fetish to me… Mmm~ I'd screw the Buggati too! So sensual it is~ I think I'd like to conquer Lady J's Jimmy and the Buggati at the same time! That'd be one wild ride! Ooh, lookie here! We've already got someone falling behind! It looks like the little pink Subaru just can't keep up with the cars that actually matter! I'm sorry honey; why don't you go play with your Barbie's some more, and they'll make sure you win their races."

(_**God, its short, I know, I'm sorry, but I'm soooo tired and I don't want to leave you all without an update for any longer. Ma's been monopolizing the computer, and work sucks all the energy from my meager body. Again, sorry…**_)


	5. Bones Shatter

(_**Sorry about the wait, folks. :P slag happens, I guess. Anyways; here's the chapter, enjoy it and all its bumps and bobbles. Any spelling errors are the computer's fault, and PrimeScreamers… he's trying to steal my gum… grr…**_

_**Goggle maps was lots of help for this chapter.**_

_**Well, my throat is swelling shut again :P its back unfortunately.**_

_**Some of the moves in here probably wouldn't ever work on an automatic; so for the sake of safety, don't do them at home unless you're me, someone stupid, or a licensed professional. Anything I use is probably not something that will ever work; just a warning.**_

_**Tis short, yes, but hopefully the quality and content make up for the shortness of it. Its also brought to you by frozen carrots and tacobell hot sauce.**_

_**Enjoy~**_)

My gloved fingers drummed on the steering wheel cover, my eyes watched the ass end of the Burgundy Camaro cruising along in front of me. Behind me was the yellow Buggati, and on my left was the green Pontiac. On my right was the guardrail that kept us from tumbling down into the river, which came from Foster dam, if I remember right. I was boxed in, and it irked me. Canting my head, I looked coldly through the down window to my left and gave Jason a glare. He seemed to see it, though he probably felt the glare more then saw it, and swallowed. From my mirror, I could see his face reflected in the one-way glass off my helmet.

"Ooh." Tommy crowed from the CB. "Looks like the Buggati, the Camaro, and little Jay-Jay's Pontiac have Lady J caged in! She can't go right, unless she wants to go for a swim! What's she to do? Lady J's a sardine in a can without a can-opener! I hope for the Buggati's sake, her engine doesn't stall. Lady J's Jimmy 'll be fine, but that Buggati would be a pancake!"

My lips curled up, and an idea popped into my head thanks to Tommy's rambling. It was risky; I'd only done it once before in my field, but it was worth a try. Fear clenched my stomach. If this failed, I would be done in the race; in more ways then one if the car flipped. Fear turned to adrenalin, and my mind was lost too it. I saw with clarity, thanks to the adrenalin and my high beam headlights, when it was time to do it; the straight stretch between here and the next curve. My foot tapped rapidly on the break and I made the car swerve, something dangerous to do when your going one ten down the highway. In my mirror, the Buggati jerked and swerved as I started to slow, almost hitting the bumper.

"WHAT IS THIS! Lady J's car can't handle the speed it seems! Perhaps so much racing has worn down the engine? She's slowing down rapidly, and the Buggati just cant seem to slow down fast enough!" Tommy crowed.

The song Bones Shatter by Hedley came on in my ear, and I clicked a button so it would repeat on and on while I raced. I murmured along softly, so I didn't hurt my ears with my horridly off key tones, with it, using my subconscious memory to form the words as I turned all my attention to the race. "A Bone shatters, fall apart and hit the floor. If it doesn't thrill you, it doesn't matter any more. Bones shatter, maybe don't go out this time. No matter where you've been or who you are, if it doesn't kill you, it's sure to leave a horrible scar. Bones shatter, baby don't go out this time."

Seeing that the other herd of Subaru's, trucks, and the minivan were at least three fourths a mile back, I had plenty of room to do my trick, since the other half the road was clear. The nose of the Jimmy was just clearing the end of Jason's Pontiac, so I jerked the wheel left and simultaneously flipped the NOS and slammed the breaks. In a dizzying disarray that felt like something out of a Fast and the Furious movie, I had my car doing a doughnut out of the cage. When it was lined up straight again, the NOS had me zipping off again, and I caught the swing of the back draft from the Pontiac and Buggati, using it to sling shot myself forwards so the nose of my car was even with the Camaro's door. My thumb turned the NOS off to save it for later.

"…What?" There was a static filled silence. "What the fuck was that?" Tommy sounded flabbergasted. "What the hell! Was she a fucking stunt driver in the Fast and Furious movies or something? That's a new trick from Lady J! I've never seen anything like that so early in the race! I have the feeling that this'll be a race for the ages! Wow. What a hella good trick! Oh! Look there! It looks like the Buggati doesn't know what to do! I think the driver is as shocked as we are!"

Damn straight…

"… The Buggati just radio'd in. 'Says her name is Bex, probably a driving name like our sweet little Lady J, and that she needs to forfeit. She freaked out when our little Lady J pulled her stunt, so much so that she ripped her steering wheel off. I guess you can't drive without a wheel, eh?" It's not easy to tear off a steering wheel though, unless it's not hooked up correctly.

Waterloo Road loomed ahead, and I pressed the Jimmy to pass the Camero, but on the straight stretch, after a trick like that, she didn't want to go past one fifteen. Coincidently, we all had to slow down as we turned on Waterloo. The road is like a sidewinder; a constant commingling knot of winding roads and driveways that follow along the near continuous track of ranch fencings and tall fields of grass hay along side the river.

When we got to the town, we had to go single file, because the streets where that narrow and filled with cars of people watching our race. We crossed the bridge fairly quickly, and then we were off again, zipping along the roads. I knew this area well; even in the pitch black of the night. Farther ahead, I could see thunder rolling in the sky, lightning following further behind. Lovely thing for me to drive to Tangent and back home in. The heat earlier today had been a prelude for the heat storms that are so common in the summers of Oregon.

Turning left on Berlin, my lights and the Camaro's lit up the golf cars of the crazy old men who golfed all the time at the gold course. Thunder, they'd use plastic completely, rain, umbrellas, snow, colored golf balls, hail, umbrellas as well. The only thing they wont golf in is a tornado; but the area where I frequent in my travels hasn't ever had one while I lived here.

Further down the road, back at the rivers edge where it floods in the winter, I passed Hamilton Creek middle school. That wasn't the only thing I passed, though. I managed to pull ahead of the Camero as we powered up the hills, which would lead to the intersection of Grant and Brewster. There was a cliff to my left, which followed a step seventy-five degree hill down to a small valley filled with beehives. The Willamette was rushing fast for early June, taking over trees and uninhabitable grounds.

I jerked my wheel to the left again, the back end of my rig fishtailing slightly as I slid through the intersection and back over the bridge that lead into Lebanon. This was the town where I got most of my supplies; food and clothes wise anyway.

"Now, for those drivers listening, I've been informed for you that all the back streets of this town have been filled with cameras, so give it a go at taking different routs then the main street. You might even find it quicker to use the back roads." Tommy chirped steadily. "Also, watch out for cats. Lebanon is famous for having cats dart across the roads."

The other cars started to catch up, and as they went straight at the light to follow the main street, I turned onto South Williams Street and charged forwards under the encroaching darkness of the looming green giants above me. My back tires left the ground briefly as I bounced over the first set of railroad tracks, and touched back down just after I left them. The second set went smoothly, and I cruised along until I got to the turn. Jerking to the right, I went onto East Elmore Street and then breezed out towards the main street.

The other racers were just passing Sum Yan's, a Chinese restaurant, as I pulled out onto the main drag. Main street would be a straight shot back down to Sweet Home; the roads blending into one. The Burgundy Camaro along with Jason in his Pontiac were quick to catch up to me. I had to slow the car to make my turns so I didn't fish tail it into an innocent civilians house, and the fact it dropped my speed to eighty was hurting me quickly. We passed several restaurants and stores, Wall-mart included, and then we came to the last red light.

"Stop at this light. We'll all start again, since this is the last stretch." Tommy ordered. When we got all lined up, the Camero and Jason unfortunately on ether side of me so I was almost boxed in. "Alright… looks like everyone who's here is supposed to be here. Including… Barbie car." He sighed over the CB. "Alright. On your marks…. When I say Waffles, Go."

Jason and I shot off, along with others who knew that the 'Go' on the end meant to hurry our asses up and get back up to speed. The reddish-purple Camaro was off the starting line just a few seconds after Jason and me were; though I flipped on my NOS briefly to keep ahead of them as we streaked back down the Santiam Highway. My heart started pounding as I rationed out my NOS, saving most of it for the final stretch through Sweet Home. Adrenalin rushed through my veins even more, as I awaited the final few miles in relative peace, save the occasional challenge from Jason and his Pontiac.

A rabbit darting out into the middle of the road changed it all.

I don't like to hit animals; it's wrong and cruel in my eyes. I've seen Bambi one to many times as a child, and when I cant stop the car fast enough, like that time I had hit a fawn just after I got my license, I had broken down in distressed sobs. Mama had to calm me down, because I was completely freaked out. My mother raised me to dodge them as well; I'm also pretty good about dodging the frogs, snakes, mice, and lizards that scurry across the roads near my house. The ones that I don't miss… well, I never usually hit them hard enough to scatter bits, so its usually all scooped up by the Vultures that haunt the pastures. Its different when you're going one hundred and twenty five down the highway. If you hit something going at this speed, it's going to dent you, your car, and _splatter_ whatever you hit. It would be like dropping a balloon filled with paint off of the Sea Needle. _Big splat_.

"Oh no! Cover your eyes folks; this is going to get bloody! Unless, of course, your into this kind of thing. If so, watch all you want, and then get psychiatric help. Poor rabbit…"

I had a split second choice to choose; hit the rabbit, and continue to win the race, or not hit the rabbit, and potentially cost myself the race winnings… Was the life of something, even as small as a rabbit, really worth it?

The cars cleared out of my way, and the rabbits way as well, as the rabbit froze in the middle of the road. All I could think was _oh my god; I'm going to hit Thumper_. Then, of my subconscious attempt to save the bunny, my arms jerked, and I was sailing sideways down the highway when I had meant to straddle it. I couldn't help but let out a startled shriek as the car started tilting on its side, but as an electrical jolt traveled up my fingers through the leather, the car slammed back down and I careened straight again, fighting to catch back up. In my rear view mirror, I watched the rabbit unfreeze and scurry frantically out of the road, clearing the way for the Barbie car and the minivan to bring up the tail.

I was shaking slightly with nerves as my thumb flipped the NOS on, and I began to expend the last of it to bring me back up with the Camero. Jason had fallen behind; he had swerved and had stopped completely when I had almost flipped the jimmy. He was snow trying to catch up; his Pontiac probably not going to get him back up to our speeds now that we were entering Sweet Home. The shard hanging from my mirror was sparking slightly, and I wasn't sure if it was what made me move, or not. I chose to pay more attention to my driving instead of the stupid hunk of metal.

"What a save! That's _two_ epic moves that Lady J has pulled. She saved Thumper!" there was a round of applause from the CB. "I think that earns her a small prize, don't you think so too?" More cheers. "Me too!" The NOS died out about half way through town, and the Camero pulled out in front of me slightly. When we pulled back into the lot, my foot was flat to the floor with the petal. We passed the line and then circled up, parking to let our cars cool off.

I let my head thump onto the wheel, my helmet taking most of the thump and cushioning it. I lost the race for a rabbit. I lost the money that I would need for my little cousins all because I couldn't bear to intentionally hit a rabbit… I'm such a fucking softhearted piece of shit! My heart was pounding with a mixture of adrenalin and fear, and my stomach churned with a feeling of failure. I failed my cousins, this races winnings were supposed to go for their care… I thumped my head on the wheel a few more time and let off a frustrated noise.

There was a tap on my arm from the open window, and I sat myself up. Turning my helmet to the door, I watched numbly as Tommy smiled at me with a big grin, two checks in his hand. "Hey there, Lady J." I nodded back in greeting, wanting to just go get my cousins and go home already. It was something along the lines of one forty in the morning. Tommy snagged my hand closest to him and stuffed the checks in my fingers, curling them around the flimsy pieces of paper. "Here. One is for coming in second place, which is a spur of the moment thing I decided to do, and this one is for your awesome performances today. Think you can do more of those next time you race? They brought in the dough big time; bets on your next big trick and whether or not you'll flop are already taking place. Brought me in fifteen grand tonight."

I canted my head and fixed him with a look, though he couldn't see it, and scrunched up my shoulders defensively. Twice was far more then I would ever need in one month, let alone one night. Tommy, not seeing my face, had gotten pretty good at reading my body language, and

"Alright, alright." He held up his hands. "I get it. You do them when you have no choice, I got it. No scoot, or you'll be trapped here in the rush for folks to get home."

I gave him no lip, lit up my cars engine, even though it probably needed more cooling down, and then pulled out.

…

The windshield wipers swiped water away, only for it to be replaced just as fast. Lightning followed the car I was driving, the heavy metal a good conductor for the high voltage beams of light.

I putted down the road in the Jimmy, my helmet and racing clothes discarded for more comfortable things like jeans and one of my T-shirts. I had stopped briefly at the house to change and let Mrs. Morgan know I was on my way. The sweet old lady was still up, waiting for me to come get the kids. Skyler and Hally were crashed on the couch, waiting for me, so Mrs. Morgan said. Mrs. Morgan had informed me that they had tuckered themselves out playing with really old dolls and eating pie. I couldn't help the smile that split my face. I could get the kids mattresses and beddings now; perhaps even some toys of their own for them to play with.

Maybe I'd buy them a dog. I heard they loved dogs, and I used to have dogs as a kid. One shouldn't hurt. Or two. Or one and maybe a cat. The only downside to a cat would be the little box cleaning; it smelled horrible, and I hated making cats sleep outdoors.

Tommy had given me a fair amount for winnings and my extra prize. The main check, titled 'car part payment', was for ten grand. Second place, apparently, got two thousand less then the winner, so says Tommy. As for the extra prize check, which was titled 'car part payment part 2' was for three grand. With the thirteen thousand dollars from the illegal racing, and the five grand from Mr. Miller, I had eighteen thousand dollars in my savings account. Along with the interest it would draw, I would be able to afford goodies for my girls. We would be set for a while.

Thank god for Tommy being a fairly generous rich man.

As I pulled onto the road that leads down towards Mr. and Mrs. Morgan's house, still a half a mile away yet, I ended up swerving. A doe jumped into my path, her fawn in tow, and froze. I hadn't seen them, because the ditches were filled with Cattails, and the tall plants had blocked my view of anything. I couldn't see how deep they were, nor how wide because the cattails blended into a feild. I jerked the car about the same time as the whole outside of my vehicle, part of the inside too, lit up like the fourth of July in front of my eyes. I felt the front quarter of the Jimmy clip the doe in the haunch, and there was a sickening smell of burning flesh. The rain slick road sent me careening out of the road towards where I hoped a field was, and as the light stopped, giving me room to see that it wasn't a field I was headed too.

There was a crunch as the cark jerked down into the deep ditch, water flowing up over the hood and going higher, my seat locks snapping and sending all of my bulk down onto my pinned ankles as the seat slid against the steering wheel. Something gave in the top of my foot, something situated around my ankle, and I screamed shrilly about the same time as my forehead went over the steering wheel, being six foot six gives me the height to do that, and slammed into the window. The bone felt like it shattered.

Black dots danced in front of my eyes, and I groaned in pain. I could see everything in front of me, though the headlights were undoubtedly buried in mud. I tried to move my legs, only to cry out when whatever my right ankle had jammed up against pressed harder into my foot. I almost vomited, the pain from my foot, but I needed to get out of here. I glanced up, taking one of my hands, moving so sluggishly it seemed, up and pressing it to my head as something ran down into my eye. The shard, hanging from the mirror, was glowing with a strange green-blue light. Unbuckling myself, I reached up to pull it down to use it as a light and try and get out of here. I had left my cell in my leather jacket… damn it. It's at home…

As my hand closed over the shard, a painful jolt ran down my body, making my upper half jerk back, and the car to jerk with me. The back tire slipped, and sent me down on the driver's side door and window as the Jimmy slammed down on its side. The shard flew from my hand, smacking onto my forehead again, just as water seeped under the door and through a crack that appeared in the window, where I hit my head. It dampened my shirt, and I gazed dazedly up, my body twisted so awkwardly it hurt.

"Oh god…" I breathed. "This hurts… oh it hurts…."

The shard burned harshly into my forehead, seeing as I had to take off the bandages before I went racing so the helmet would fit normally. I went to try and sit back up normally, perhaps reach the CB and radio one of the late night truckers for help.

The sky lit up again, and lightning hit the car again. As my back was in about an inch of water, the shock went straight up through me, bolting back and forth between the metal resting on my forehead, and the water at my back.

The pain was so bad, I wont be able to describe it. Perhaps, if you've ever experienced static cling, or shocked your finger touching a door, then you would know. Imagine that upped by a million volts, and all through your body.

I passed out before the last volt left my body.


	6. Awake And Alive

(_**Hey, glad you all somewhat liked the last chapter. This one will most likely be short too, but eh. I do better with short chapters; I can get more detail in this way. Its kinda like Demonatrons, though I probably just flopped and spelled her name wrong, way of writing most of her stories with Demona.**_

_**Anywho, enjoy chapter 6~**_)

I dreamt. I don't know if its common to dream while your unconscious, dead, or whatever the hell I am, but I did. Or at least, I think it was a dream. I'm sure it is a dream. But… No. No. It's a dream, brought on by the millions and millions of bolts of lightning I took to my brain. Yes. Yes, that's it. Its all one big fucked up dream brought on by my near death brush… or did I die?

Regardless, I found myself lying on some flat and rocky area, though the rocks didn't look like rocks. It looked more like big blocks of sand, all set in this strange circular pattern with arches and stuff that looked partly Celtic, and partly medieval. Definitely, though, it just didn't look like something anyone from the human race would build. The feel of the stone on my cheek informed me that it was likely some type of sandstone. I could only see what was in front of me, and when I tried to roll over and see behind me, I couldn't.

Well… all right then.

Something else in my line of vision just so happened to be something that invoked my almost instant ire. There was a large robot thing, a television announcement came to mind but I couldn't remember what they were called, and it seemed to be holding this square hunk of etched metal. The robot was tall, even from the distance that separated us. He easily over-shot my barn, even the tallest Douglas fir on my property. Hell, he might have rivaled the height of the sea- no, no, its space- space needle in Washington. Why I called it a sea needle, I can't remember. I think Uncle Scott kept teasing me about it. Digressing again. I wanted to sigh.

The robot seemed to sigh. There was a strange metallic beard like thing on its face; it looked to be made out of wires you would find in children's arts and crafts pipe cleaner. There seemed to be a never-ending amount of them, though they shortened as they ran up what was probably his- it had a beard, so it's a man in my eyes- face. There were big eyes set above something that looked like a nose, only it was flatter and seemed to be made of ever shifting plates, and the eyes were gazing tenderly at the cube in his hands. Their color… I can't even begin to describe. One second they're a soft blue, then inferno red, purple, green, and any color you could possibly craft with all the colors of the world. His hands had these wicked claws too; something you would think Freddy Krueger would have. Or perhaps be jealous of. Over all, the fella looked old, but his body frame never would have suggested it. He was broad in the shoulders, narrower in the hips, but flared out to thick and well-armored legs.

Not someone I would want to tussle with, even if he was my size, and not some five or six hundred seemingly so feet tall.

"**Well, well, well.**" The robots voice was deep, rumbling with an age and a tang of power that would have anyone trembling. If I could have moved, or if it had been directed at me in a menacing way, I'm not afraid to leap out from behind embarrassment and blurt out that I would piss my pants flat out. I would, so would you, and so would anyone with half a brain. "**It seems, my lovely, that you have decided to come home and rest for a spell.**" The way he said 'My lovely,' sounded more like someone talking to a loved one, friend, parent, child, whatever, then what that creepy once-hobbit guy from The Lord Of The Rings. You know, the one who killed his friend to keep a ring… Smug… Smarmy… Smeeby… Smeagol! Or Gollum, as he had become or what have you. The robot let out a deep pulsating thrum, setting my nerves on end. Strange dream indeed. "**Now, my sweet, sweet beauty. What has caused you to recede so from the mortal world? Were you not watching over our children, even through their petty squabbles?**"

The robot seemed to listen to something. I was getting one side of a conversation apparently, though it had yet to be seen if it was with the metal hunk, or with just his self. Perhaps the robot was crazy. "**I see… So they destroyed your corporal form in their war… No; my pool has been malfunctioning as of late. I need to fix it… So your mortal form is gone, yes?**" There was a short silence. "**No? A select few shards left? Then why are you here, my darling All-spark?**"

I found my nose started to itch, but I could not scratch it, and, no matter how I tried to influence my dream, it would not bow. I was in for a long ride. "**I see… Most of your conscience was pressed into one meager shard, but the others hold just enough to create sparkless drones. Not drones? What then? Ah… I see. Enough to power a generator then. I see, I see.**" The robot seemed to take a moment in his insistent petting of the block to stroke his beard, the sounds of wind chimes and spoons scraping emitted from the action. "**If I might ask, why did you fritter away your final shard? Your mortal form would have re-grown… Better yet, to whom did you squander your blessed gift upon? Which of our children got your blessing?**"

Another stroke of his beard, and another bone rattling thrumming sound. "**So it was an organic femme you gave your gift too.**" He mused softly. Cradling the cube up farther, he pressed a strange kiss to it. The cube responded in kind, I guess you could say. The square metal chunk sparked, glowing where the big robot kissed it. The metal man seemed to shudder. "**Oh, how I have longed to feel your soft kiss again, my darling mine. Might I ask again; why did you give up your gift for a meager fleshling? Did she woo you with untold riches befitting a royal court member? Perhaps the promise of protection?**"

Another short-lived bout of silence passed us by, broken by the large robot once more as he began to speak softly. He pressed another kiss to the block. "**I see. She offered you none of these. She gave up a winning prize so that a lesser creature could continue its meager life? Hardly gift worthy.**" Oh my gosh. I am never driving in a storm again unless it's an emergency. There was a spark from the block like thing, lighting up the area. The robot flinched slightly, though stood his ground with the metal hunk in his hands. "**Yes, dear, yes I know. You choose who you gift what you gift to, and the nature of that gift. So, on that note, what will she become? Will she be granted two wheels? Four wheels? No wheels? Wings? The rare gift to sail across the planets waters without sinking? Or will she take the shape of one of her organic animal things?**"

He paused, and seemed to blink, lifting the square up to look at it. "**Elusive as ever, aren't you, my darling? No matter. You said that she would gain just as she lost, and that her mortal form would not be put through our kinds metamorphosis. You also said she would have four wheels to call her own.**" A confused sigh tore free. "**You confuse me at times, my All-spark, and I do believe your little devious self knows this too.**" There was a light spark, teasing almost. The robot sighed softly. "**You know what I would do to you if I could? I would lavish you, love you, and we would spend our eternal lives creating more children of our race, and watch them grow and thrive.**"

If he was going to get dirty with a metal block, I so did not want to be in this dream right now. "**But, alas, we cannot. Our guest is still here, and you are tired. She needs to be sent back, lest her mothers' brother and his mates' children begin to worry. She is late in her waking.**"

I tried to move, even as the big robot came and picked me up. I hung limp, like a marionette with its strings cut, from his grasp, even as the large and lethal claws closed over me like a confining metal cage I was bound to die in. Then, the robot strode smoothly to a large pool like hole, and dropped me through it without another word. I got that strange sense of falling to my death, and then I jerked as fear took me. I hated it when dreams ended like that.

My eyes opened, and I inhaled sharply. I couldn't see anything. Just a blackness that encroached deeply, fully killing one of my five normal senses. I could hear though. There was a steady beeping to my left, though it rose in a panicked pace for a short while, and then dropped back down to a steady pulsing beat that apparently matched my heart beat. I struggled briefly, a small groggy part of me inside not really recognizing that I wasn't in my car anymore.

A hand, petite but strong, gently set its self down on my shoulder, the bare part, settling my struggles as the long and slightly padded fingers clamped around my joint. "Calm down now, you're alright." I recognized the voice. It was my nurse at the local hospital, where I went to when I needed to have something sewn shut, or relocated. "There you go. Now, I need you to answer some questions for me, then I'll answer some for you, okay?" I nodded slightly. "Good. Do you know your name?" I gave a soft shudder. I remembered my name, yes, but her touch was hurting me. It was as if all my nerves were on hyperactive. Even the slightest of touches sent them tingling, and her tight grip hurt the skin nicely.

I nodded slightly, and she leaned back to adjust my bed upwards slightly, so I could sit upright. "Torrie Evans." I answered raspily, my body replacing my dry mouth with saliva one moment later. "I'm Torrie Evans. And, if I'm correct, I recognize your voice, Holly Parker."

Holly tapped my hand. "Good, good. It seems your mind is fine, and your fairly healthy considering what happened to you."

I frowned softly. "About that… I remember the crash, the shock, my foot, but nothing else. Why am I blind?"

Holly chortled next to me. "Your not blind. It was a newby who did the bandages on your head." She tsked softly. "Here." I felt her hands on my head, unwinding the bandages and then moving them up. I opened my eyes, glad to see again. "Now," she chided softly. Holly was still fairly young looking for being forty-one. She had three kids, all boys. Andy, who was two years older then me, Matt, three years older then me, and Sammy, who was around fifteen. Last time I had been here, which by her coat said it was the Corvallis hospital where I usually went, was when I had split open my arm with a band saw. She had said, all those years ago, that she wanted another couple of kids. "In a bit, I'll bring in a mirror… those shocks did more then just give you a few burns and bruises, Torrie. Nothing big, but a few minor altercations.."

I blinked at her again, letting my eyes adjust. Soon, I could fully recognize the soft hazel of Holly's eyes, and the dark chestnut color of her hair. "What do you mean, 'miner altercations'?"

"You'll see in a minute." She answered softly. I saw her gently shuffle the bandages again. "No need for this messy head wrap. It seems your time in here has yielded off that concussion and coma as well. A small compress and some tape will keep your burn on the healing track just fine, though I'm afraid it will scar in a nasty way."

I blinked again as she tottered all her short height to one of the cupboards and drawers to fetch her needed supplies. Questions mounted up in my mind, and brought with them a nasty headache. "Coma? Scar?"

"Yes." Holly answered bleakly, coming back to wrap up my forehead with a medicated compress wrap. "You've been cationic and comatose for a week and a half. Your body is healing though, rest assure. You'll be back to making trouble like usual. As for your scar, well… apparently something fell on your face from your car, and when the lightning bolt struck, it zinged between the water and the metal on your face. Some of it melted into the skin, so deep in fact it fused to your skull. Don't worry though; we managed to get it flat, since it wouldn't pull away, and now you have some skin regrowing over it. That's why you'll have a nasty scar." She gave a drawn out sigh. "Only you, Torrie, could survive getting struck by lightning once and-"

"Twice." I offered softly. "It struck the car twice. Once before I crashed, and once after."

"That explains the burnt deer body near by, and the orphaned fawn near it." Holly drawled softly. "Regardless… Only you could survive getting stuck by lightning twice, _and_ crashing your car, all while surviving like the usual Evans dumbasses."

"Yeah…" I grunted softly. "Great… Wait… A week and a half?" I felt panic set my heart alight. Skyler and Hally were left without knowing where I was! "My cousins!" I tried to scramble out of my bed. My right foot wouldn't work with me, and with all one hundred and sixty off pounds of Holly draped in my lap, I wasn't going anywhere; not in my weakened state. "They were left without knowing where I was!" I had to get to them. I had to let them know I was alright, and that I didn't abandon them alone at the Morgan's house.

She pinched my arm slightly, and we both flinched when there was a little shocking feel from the contact. "You've been giving off little charges every so often to others while you were unconscious." She said simply. "But, your cousins are fine. They aren't alone; a nice man named Mr. Morgan brought them here to see you, and they went back to Mr. Millers house. You know Mr. Miller, right? The nice government man who keeps an eye on us 'cause we're all almost family?"

I frowned angrily, my forehead crinkling making my face hurt. "I hope you know, I'm not on the best speaking terms with him right now… Speaking of speaking; when can I leave here?"

"When you can sign papers and have someone arranged to help you around for the next seven weeks." She patted my cheek and hopped down. "Regardless; he took them with him, and they visit you every day. Apparently, he has a house somewhere down here, and his dog had a litter of puppies, if Hally's excited babbles were anything to go by. That girl can talk forever… Speaking of which; your cousins are due by here soon."

I sighed. Cousins… the money in the bank would have a big indent in it with this hospital stay. "How… much do I owe the hospital this time?"

"Nothing." Holly paused at the foot of my bed and gently checked on what looked to be a cross between a cast and a walking boot that encased my left foot up to my knee. "Mr. Miller says that the government is covering it, mainly because you agreed to do 'a great service for your people, your country, and your government.' Whatever that means… So, what is it? A national secret? Holding someone they need hidden?"

"Nope. Not telling." I grunted softly. "Great… the government will probably make me pay them back for it…"

The door slid open and Mr. Miller came in with a soft grunt, guiding in two small girls that I knew so well. "Hardly, Torrie. I'm paying for it; not those government bozos."

"Technically," I grunted at him softly, eying the two girls briefly. "You're a government bozo too." I opened my arms for them. "Hally? Skyler?"

They just looked at me. Their little lower lips jutted out, and tears started fogging in their eyes. Clutched under one arm, set in a little six year olds death grip, was Bell, and Skyler held her as if she were a last life line to someone she knew. Hally's little hair was in pigtails today, so was Skylers, and both were in a matching set of overalls. Glassy blue and green eyes stared out at me, begging to know why I had gotten hurt when I told them I would see them soon. As the first little tears slipped down their cheeks, I made a soft sound.

Not moments later, I was squished in a pile of sobbing six year olds. Ignoring the fact that their touch set my skin ablaze, as if the electricity from my shocking hadn't quite worn off yet and was still affecting my nerves, I wrapped my bare arms around them, curling my fingers behind their heads, snagging loose curls. I rocked them back and forth softly. "Its alright," I crooned. "Please forgive me. I was trying to get to you to take you home, but the storm had other ideas…"

Hally burbled into my hostpital gown. "We knows! We knows! But you was gone! We couldn't find you! When we got to see you, you wouldn't wake up, even when we cried for you to pwease wake up. Torrie… why wouldn't you wake up?"

I didn't have an answer. "I don't know, sweet heart. I don't know. But I'm awake and alive. Don't worry over the past, okay? Not with me anyways. I'm alright, I just look a little different." I got no more words from Hally, as both girls did a damn good job of becoming permanent leeches onto me.

"Different is right." John rumbled softly. He reached into his back pocket and drew out a phone, the screen acting like a mirror. He held it out, letting me see my reflection.

Different was right. I was pale, probably from lack of sun, but I could see traces of scar tissue peeking out from under the bandage. The scar didn't bother me; none of them ever did, but the fact that there was a big streak of white, as in bleach your hair so white it hurts to look at white, running down the middle of my head. My hair was a mess, not something uncommon for me.

I blinked softly, and then looked up at John. "Your right…" I frowned softly. "What are you doing here anyways? I thought you'd be back in DC or wherever you gotta go by now."

He shook his head. "I was the one who found your car. One of my… friends… traced the signal of your CB to the spot where you crashed. Thought I'd stick around, watch your kids for you, and get someone down here who could help you around your place for a bit."

I paused. "Friend… as in Friend friend, or friend friend who will be the bane of my existence sometime around the first type of friend?"

He seemed to cringe. "Friend friend who is here with me now, and was with me when I went to your place to talk about work kind of friend. Friend friend who has agreed to help you around kind of friend friend, who's going to be with you… type of friend."

My face hurt when it puckered, and I heard the heart monitor go off the rocker with its beeping. "WHAT!"


	7. Iridescent

(_**Thanks for your patience, folks. I've been ill; I still am, with some sort of unidentified virus that's been making my tongue get rid of my taste buds. Yep. The whole throat-swelling thing escaladed.**_

_**Regardless of my health, I did manage to do something productive between my sleeping and drinking liquids. I drew Torrie. Look up Torrie Evans by CrossxCut on Deviantart, and you'll have found her. She's kinda cranky looking, ain't she? If you can't find her, leave a comment in the review, and I will get you the link as fast as I can.**_

_**Note. I don't know if casts can be made waterproof, but for this fic's sake, it's going to be. :P**_

_**Also, I hate doing accents. Don't expect any this time around, unless I'm feeling pretty uppity.**_

_**Enjoy, I guess~ chapter seven away!**_

_**Tis shorter; yes, but you know what? I have four days to write chapters all day and night. You'll be getting your fix {drug dealer much?} in a little bit, if you readers can manage to wait just a wee bit. I'm still working out the kinks.**_)

To say I wasn't happy would have been an understatement. I was pissed. Very pissed. I had wanted to throttle John. It wasn't that I wasn't grateful for him saving me; just the opposite in fact, but it was something along the lines that he had an Autobot up on my property without me knowing it. And, _and_, that same Autobot that had been there had also witnessed my act of aggression and my rather blatant declaration of discontent for their entire species as a whole. I had gotten myself so worked up that I had sent the monitor on a spike, and gave myself a massive headache without ever uttering a single word. No. No. John wasn't with my curses; not in front of my girls. But; when I can catch his ass, I _am_ going to give him one hell of a wallop.

Due to stress, so said Holly, I was in the hospital for another day. Skyler and Hally stayed with me, sleeping on the medical bed with me once I sneakily took out the IV drip line, and were both there with me when I was able to sign myself out of the hospital. During the day I was awake and aware, Holly changed out my cast for a smaller and thinner type, one that would easily provide the same support that the large one would, though less protection, and one I would be able to wear a shoe in _and_ shower in, since due to some new fangled compound in it, it was waterproof. I had been given standard crutches, which suck by the way, and was flatly told not to walk without the crutches for the next five weeks, and that little strolls around the house come the sixth week would be all right. The seventh should have yielded me back into the doctors so I could arrange a physical therapy appointment. I was also given the order; not told or advised to do it, that I was not to do any heavy lifting above thirty pounds unless I was sitting, and that I should not bend over quickly until my forehead had healed as much as it was going to. John, kindly so, brought me a pair of overalls and a thick white t-shirt to change into. I did.

By the time all of the paper work was done, I had been advised many a time over about my warnings. Lets just say that John had a lot of calling to do in order to get a small mishap settled, and that it took us until somewhere closed to eight until it was done. That's a long time to be drilled on what I should and shouldn't do; such as walking.

Yeah; not happening. I still have the walking boot at my home from when I broke my ankle in my freshman year. It should still fit; my feet didn't grow anymore after eighth grade. As for lifting; I still have work to do. I was going to put my walking boot on when I got home, and then I was going to go check my contacts after I took a shower. I was sure I still have another car due in soon. I need to refresh myself… and I need to check out my own car.

"Hey John," I said offhandedly as I stood on my crutches watching him and my cousins. He was buying them some snacks from the snack machine, since I didn't have any money on me, and my checks were deposited in the bank before I had crashed. "What did you do with my car?"

He grunted softly at me, standing as he held several packages of snack crackers and all other sorts of nummy stuff that wasn't considered potato chips. Well; there had gone one of his many twenty-dollar bills. Skyler had her little arms full of the same stuff; meaning she was holding four packages, and one stuffed in her mouth. Hally was picking up the ones that unfortunately dropped. "Well," he rumbled softly. "I was tempted to send the da-rned thing to the wrecking yard, but I know that's your baby. I sent her home, of course. She's waiting in your barn with all your tools and tidily winks." John started forwards, walking calmly towards the exit. "You have a lot of work and cleaning ahead of you once you recover. Your car's headlights are shot; there's water damage on the interior, and a nice set of dents from the crash and from the deer. Not to mention the fried wires and circuits. Yep. You'll be busy for a long while before that beast is up and running again."

I nodded slightly and sighed. I hobbled along behind them, the crutches hurting my armpits like no other, as we approached the entrance and exit area. The sliding glass doors slid open automatically, and we all paced out. Well, I hobbled, but it got me outside. John waved with his elbow for us to wait here and then sprinted across the hot tar to his car… or his Autobot; whatever one he brought today. I realized he was sprinting because he was in thongs. I shook my head, my hair matted and painfully gross as it swayed fluffily back and forth. Who would have thought that a guy who wore suits all the time would pair them with flip-flops?

It was a little more then a minute or so later, I know because the clock outside seemed to be mocking me with its repetitive ticking, that John pulled up in his shiny silver solstice, shinier then the other one he had been driving at my house that supposedly was an Autobot. It was a nice car, truly, but I don't really think it'll fit my crutches and us all. The crutches are big, so as to accommodate my six foot six form, and when they fold down, they aren't much smaller.

As John stepped out, the car staying still, to come help us, I made a soft noise. "John, unfortunately, I don't think we'll all fit in this thing. Its… way to tiny."

John grinned. "Don't worry. He holds more then he looks like he would." I arched a red-brown brow. I knew I gave my car a gender. But I didn't know he had.

"He?" I prompted. I was handed Bell briefly as Skyler was settled into the car with her sister, and then I was giving her back just as fast. The little blond girl, it seems, had taken a liking to my bear.

When John got the door shut, effectively sealing the girls ears away from our words, he turned to me with a frown. "Yes. This is the Autobot from your farm; but a bit more cleaned up with a new coat of silver paint. Torrie, meet Jazz."

My eyebrows puckered, and I hid a wince when it pulled the skin. "You put my cousins in an Autobot." Was there anger in my voice? Why yes there was. "After all they've been through, you have the _balls_ to put them somewhere I had never _ever_ planned to put them. I should take these crutches and castrate you where you stand, Miller…"

The wheel shifted on the solstice, Jazz or what ever the fuck his name was, but he made no other move. John crossed his arms. "Jazz hasn't let on that he's a Cybertronian. Your girls think he's just a normal solstice."

My mouth tightened, and I hissed at him. "Fine. I don't care what they think; we are not going home in an Autobot."

"And you care to walk?" he arched a brow. "Its almost an hour by car from here to your house; how long do you think that'll be by crutch power? Hmm? Get in the car."

My fists tightened on the foam padding on the crutches handles. "I'm not getting in that Autobot." My eyes flicked to the wheel again. It shifted.

John twitched his eyebrows slightly. "You'll get in," he answered back, "Or I'll ship your car off to become scrap parts."

I flipped him the bird. "You don't have the title, nor can you find it."

John tilted his head. "No," he said simply. "But as a government agent, I can use that power to seize it. Come on, Torrie," he sounded exasperated. "I sound stupid flinging about my agent powers, just get in the car; its not like he's going to bite."

He might… I peered through the window, not seeing much through the tint. "I'm six foot six. This car is short. I'm not going to fit comfortably in the short fucker." The wheel jerked sharply, and I inwardly smiled. Hmmm. Touchy about being short? Or perhaps the curse word? "If you can fit my crutches in, sure, I'll ride in the Autobot. But only this once, John. Only once."

He got me settled in without another word, and then hopped into the drivers seat next to me. The passengers' window remained rolled up, but the Air conditioning unit started up. I puckered my lips to remain silent, as I felt the seat beneath me warm unnaturally fast. By the time we left Corvallis, the girls were giggling in the back seat, munching away on crackers. There wasn't much of a mess, but just enough to probably cause discomfort. Oh, yes, that made my day.

John cleared his throat to me, the girls engrossed in their crackers. "You know, your not going to be able to drive with your foot broken."

I furrowed my brows again, and then pressed my hand to the stark bandage on my head as the scarred skin throbbed with an unholy agony. "I can use my left." I grunted. "My Jimmy isn't a stick-shift; she's an automatic."

John never took his eyes off the road, though there seemed to be fakeness in his movements, as if he wasn't actually driving. "Your jimmy isn't going anywhere until you can redo a whole lot of electrical wiring and check your engine. You've still got something along the lines of six weeks until you can do such things."

I scowled softly. "Your point is?"

He hummed softly and leaned over to turn on the radio, though he only mimed the movements because the Autobot had turned it on just before his hand reached the buttons. A song by Johnny cash came from the speakers; ghost rider by the sounds of it. "Well, I'll be leaving the solstice with you so you can drive this instead. He's automatic too; and he self starts."

I frowned again. "Not happening." I commented. "I'll drive the Kubota before I drive this little electric car."

"… You know, I think I can see you doing that. But; unfortunately, your tractors license expired yesterday." There was smugness in his voice, so thick it was practically permeating the tight space of the Autobot solstice.

My jaw popped open. "You didn't."

John's face quirked into a smirk. "I did. See? I don't make empty threats, Torrie." I silently fumed. "So, until then, you're stuck going to anyplace in this lovely car."

I resisted reaching over to throttle him, all the rest of the way home. It was a temptation that I almost took pleasure in, and I'm sure John knew too. My twitching fingers probably gave it away. By the time that we had gotten home, it was late. Getting dark, rather; it was around nine o-clock. Time for the twins to go to bed, and time for me to go to my workshop and see to the damages of my Lady J.

When we were all out of the Solstice, John went to 'park' him, and probably debrief him on the do's and don'ts of living on my property. I had shambled up the steps with my girls trudging tiredly behind me. They had eaten their fill of crackers and passed out in the back seat; they were asleep on their feet, and I couldn't carry them up. That would change soon, though.

We trudged into my room, I heard John's 'hidden car' pulling out, and the girls simply flopped on the bed to watch me. I pulled out my walking boot, tossing the crutches in the corner, and hopped with one foot to flop on the corner of my bed. Finagling with the straps, I got the boot to fit with the cast inside it and grinned happily.

"Torrie?" Hally tiredly reached out, tugging my overalls. "Sleep with us? Pwease?"

I turned gently and scooped both girls into my arms like I would cradle a child. "Unfortunately, sweet peas, I gotta go shower and check on Lady J."

Skyler puckered her lips at me, but Hally spoke, as per usual. "But… But your not supposed to do stuffs like that!"

I gently kissed her forehead. "Work is work, sweets. I promise not to start anything tonight though," a blatant but well hidden lie, " so go to sleep, please? I'll come to bed in a bit. I wana go make sure John didn't park his," think of a pleasant word other then 'fucking monster', 'wrecking yard trash', or 'piece of shit'. "car in some place he shouldn't be."

Hally yawned softly in my arms. "Stay then, till we sleep? Pretty please with Mrs. Morgan's yummy pie on top?"

I chuckled softly and used my hand to smooth her messy pigtails back. "Sure, sweeties. I'll stay until you sleep." They yawned simultaneously, clinging to me. I rubbed their backs softly, humming in an off-key tune. Skyler seemed to settle down, just happy to be home and close to her cousin and parental figure, but Hally fidgeted slightly. "What's wrong, Hally?"

"Humming's fine, Torrie." She muttered sleepily. "But no singing. Pwease? Sounds like a waa.. wall. Walrs…"

"Walrus?" I supplied.

"Mmhmmm." She nodded sleepily. "Waaallllrooooos. Starving tone-deaf waaaaaallllroooos."

I blinked. "Do you even know what those words mean? _How_ would you even know?"

"Intwerenet and a fasorus." Hally yawned. "Try it some time…" Her head tucked itself under my chin, and she didn't say anymore.

I sighed softly. Sleepy children, when they want to, can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Tucking them in, after scooting over where I could reach the blankets, I gently pulled out their pigtails. Using my fingers, I combed out knots and smoothed down the mess that had become of their curls. I smiled softly as Skyler scooted towards her sister, cuddling with her. Bell was squished in-between them, one lone arm of the bear sticking out from above the covers.

Gathering my will, I hauled myself to my feet. The pain that greeted me from my right foot almost sent me back down on my ass. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I hobbled into the bathroom. I sat gingerly on the sink, curling my shin up to me and gently cradling my leg to me as a few pained tears trickled from my eyes. When the pain ebbed from the flare it had been, I got graced with a headache. Popping a vicodin and a half, my large size and the fact they acted like stronger Tylenol for me allowing me to do so, I looked at myself in the mirror. The tears left little iridescent tracks down my cheeks.

I was a mess. Plain and simple. I used my undamaged foot to open the drawer that held the washcloths, and set to cleaning up my face. I balanced on one foot, keeping the injured one off the ground, as I washed my hair. I had to change the bandage on my forehead after that; the bandage got wet. When it was all done with that, I sat on the counter again and stripped apart my cloths one piece at a time, pretty much sponge bathing myself so I didn't have to get in the shower. My bedroom was right next to the bathroom; you could hear everything in there. When I felt more presentable, my wet hair pulled back in a low ponytail, I gritted my teeth and then left the bathroom, lightning bolts of pain crippling my leg. I left the house, using the rail on the deck to slide to the ground; I gimped slowly to the barn.

I left the door wide open, not bothering to try and close it for privacy, and took a moment to look at my car. It was indeed a mess, and I felt sympathetic throbs in places where each of the damages would probably have been on a human. The rear axel had snapped clean in two; all four tires were fine, the hood was dented, and there was mud quite literally almost all over it. The windshield was cracked, blood splattered on it, which said that was where I had hit my head on it. One of the doors was missing, but it was laying near the car, large fingerprint like shapes indented into it. I frowned. Must have been the damn Autobot who did that… Oh well, I guess… my life isn't fixable; Lady J can be torn to shreds and then put right back together again.

Perusing over the other damages, I began to rack up the bill. It just kept going up; though some of these parts I would be able to salvage from ether upstairs, which would be interesting to go up and down with a broken foot, or somewhere in the pile of engines and miscellaneous parts. Speaking of an engine… that was probably another four grand just right there; not to mention wiring and anything else that needs fixed.

I bit my lip and rubbed my eyes softly, leaning on the damaged hood. I felt a shock go through my arm, and inadvertently hissed. Hanging from my mirror was the partially melted shard. The symbols weren't recognizable anymore; all of them melted together in one lumpy chunk. I sighed softly again. "This is going to take a lot of work…" I said to myself. I pried the hood open, my foot screaming in pain, and had to use my arm to hold the hood up since the spot where the hook to hold the hood up was bent out of the hooks reach. Gently fingering around inside the engine, I took in the damages.

"Aren't you supposed to be on crutches, 'lil femme?"

My hand slipped off the hood, and it banged down on the back of my shoulders. My eyes watered, and the breath was knocked out of me. I responded with a typical mechanic's response. "Son of a bitch!"


	8. The Rules

(_**Thanks for the reviews folks! Fifty-eight plus reviews for only seven chapters thus far! I am amazed!**_

_**Jazz is a bit more serious, but that's 'cause he's trying to get a bit of an analysis of Torrie. I think she'd hate him even more if he tried to go all gangster on her.**_

_**Anyways, enjoy chapter 8~ even if it is short~ its just some rules and stuff~ then we'll have some real fun~**_)

Just as soon as my sentence was out, the hood was lifted from my back as if it didn't weigh anything at all. I whirled, expecting to find ether the Autobot or some sort of intruder on my property. Truthfully, I was hoping for the latter. My sledgehammer next to my desk would run most folks off… unfortunately for me; I came almost face to face with a large one-eyed blue robot. Er… a robot with a visor, and a kind of 'Thor' style helmet for a head. He had large hands on the hood of my car, and was crouched in my doorway, blocking my hobbled escape. He… wasn't actually as large as I thought he would be; but I guess small cars make small robots.

A scowl crossed my face as his hands gently set my hood down, a few more scratches marring the faded black paint. Taking the weight off of my foot; it had burst into a hellfire of pain when I turned swiftly, I crossed my arms and leaned on my car's hood and front bumper in an almost protective manner. "Shouldn't you be outside being a car and _not_ in my barn being a nuisance, robot?"

The visor flickered as he moved back slightly, testing his elbows on his crouched knees in an almost human position. The visor before me flickered slightly, almost like a blink in the light. "I am not a robot." The robot spoke slowly. "I am Jazz, and I am Cybertronian. I know you know my name. Use it please, lil' femme. I have not once been rude to you; common courtesy is to use first names, since we Autobots do not have last names as your kind do."

My frown deepened, and I curled my lip. "You should know my name, mister fancy-smancy _robot_. Now, if you will, kindly go the fuck away."

"You did not answer my question." Blatantly, it seemed, he ignored my question. "Again, I have not been rude, yet you show our kind such hostility." His visor flickered briefly. "Your records don't say that you've ever encountered out kind before."

I curled my shoulders up, both in a hostile way and a defensive way. With a human smaller then me, I would have had them backing away with just posture alone. This robot didn't so much as bat his visor. "No, I haven't. But, that doesn't change how I am, robot. Now please, go away. I have more important things to do then to sit here and chew the fat with you."

He made a few strange clicking noises, the sound made my head ring, and then he shifted forwards. "You should be in bed, Ms. Evans."

I arched a brow and tightened my fist. "No. I have work to do, robot, but I don't think you'd understand, would you?" I turned to go hobble to my desk and arrange for some parts for my car, and see if I had any cars other then the government ones coming in soon. They would have to go on delay…

A large silver hand settled silently in front of me, blocking me from my desk. "I would not know of you struggles, but I know of others likewise worse then your own." He said. "My name is _Jazz_. As in the music jazz. Ms. Evans," my name rolling from hid mouth made me want to cut out my eardrums, "You need to go to bed to heal. You cannot heal if your body does not recharge."

I backed away from his hand as if he had a plague back in the time of the mass extinction of most of Europe. "I can heal just fine without sleep." I snapped. "Now go away, _Jazz_. I am busy, and you are aggravating me."

The robot fixed me with a look. "I will not go, not until your back in your pad and sleeping away the night with your cousins."

I tried to go the other way around my car to bypass him and go to my desk that way, but he blocked me again. I turned back and scowled. "You don't have any responsibility to me, or to make me go to bed. Go away, damn you."

"Actually, the chief medical officer for the Autobots heard that you had gotten hurt." The robot seemed to drawl, in a tone suggesting he was rolling his eyes… if he had eyes behind the visor. "He gave me orders to watch you and act as your temporary guardian until everyone else can get here. That means, I make sure you don't over exert yourself, I make sure you sleep, you generally stay in good health, and that you heal."

"I don't care. I'm not letting you do this. Get out."

"And I don't care about you not caring. I take orders from people in higher places then you, shorty."

I threw up my hands into the air waving them slightly. "I don't think you get the point!" I half shouted in exasperation. "I. Don't. _Care_." I ground out. "I wouldn't care if you fell into a scrap machine or got melted down to be made into golf clubs. I don't care what your 'medic' says, I don't care what your fucking leader says. I don't care." I took that moment to try and duck under his arm; failing badly when Jazz grabbed me gently around the middle, standing easily under he twenty foot roof of the large two story barn. I dangled from his grasp, and felt like I could just burn the clothes on my body, and the skin beneath those as well, clean off so that I wouldn't have any residue from him. My body, upon contact, let out an electrical charge, like a fork in a light socket type of shock. Apparently mister big, nasty, and shiny wasn't bothered by the shock.

"I get that." He said. I watched him lean down and casually turn off my lights to the barn, strolling languidly out. He shut the door easily, with a grace and ease that I was jealous of. The doors were heavy. Jazz carted me to the deck and gently, very gently for something his size, set me down and then knelt. From a small spot where a nose would have been it seemed like air went in, much like a sigh.

I leaned on the railing, giving him a nasty look.

"Don't do that, you're facial features will get stuck." Jazz spoke exasperatedly. "Really. Happens to us all the time."

"And there's the difference." I snarled. "I am human. You're a giant metal monster who shouldn't even be here. Humans don't get our faces stuck like that."

The robot seemed to sigh. "Alright, Ms. Evans. It seems like we both are a bit on edge, for very different reasons. Once you get past that rather nasty shell you have yourself cocooned in, I imagine you're a very pleasant femme to talk to." So I'm a bitch, but I'm interesting. "How about this." He held up one very large finger to me, as if to shake hands. "I'm Autobot Jazz, saboteur and third in command, acting as Second in command in due part to a commanding officer's lack of presence. I was a cultural analyst in the golden ages of my planet. It is nice to meet you, Torrie Evans." He waggled the finger, as if to shake hands again. I do believe that it is polite to shake hands, yes?"

Adopting my great grandma's accent and favorite saying, I shot him down. "Blow it out your bagpipe, boyo." In an unaccented tone, I narrowed my eyes. "Just go away. I'll go sleep," a lie, "you go do whatever the hell you have to do… just don't break anything. You break it, you replace it." I frowned thoughtfully, crossing my arms so he would get the point that I was not shaking hands with him. "How about I set down my general rules for anyone up here, hmm?"

Jazz tilted his head, his visor glinting brightly at me. He withdrew his hands, the strange claw-like tips curling into his palms as he closed his hands. "Your cousins, as I have seen, have no such rules, but alright." A strange glint from his optics. "I'll humor you."

"First," I held up a hand, ticking them off on my fingers, "and most important. You, or any of your little group, do not, under any circumstances, unless one of us is dieing, show yourselves to my cousins. Second; you break it, you buy a new one. Third; you _don't_ tell me what to do. I am a full-grown human female; I will get defensive and tell you off. Forth; don't destroy my trees or tear up my fields. I will rip you a new hole someplace you don't want to know." I glanced at him pointedly. "Fifth; don't enter my shop without knocking and permission, both for my safety and yours. I'm liable to put a socket wrench through your eye on accident…" or maybe not accident. We'll see. "Sixth," my hand went back to one finger up. "In the case that my cousins do find out about you, I want all of you to steer clear of them and leave them alone."

The armored plates on his face seemed to draw apart… a smile? A grin? A 'fuck-you-I'm-not-doing-it look? "Very well. I will talk to my superior, and we'll see about all of us abiding your rules." He let out a long humming noise. "You know, we have bots who will break your rules just for the hell of it."

I gave him a tight look. "I have a sledge hammer, and I plan on keeping it close for such occasions."

The robot before me splayed his hands in a harmless gesture. "You do that. Be warned; our medic wont like having to repair them."

"Then eventually they'll learn not to do it." I said stiffly. "If old dogs can learn new tricks, then you robots can too."

Jazz seemed to snort. "I'd like to hear you say that to Ironhide."

"Who?"

"Big cannon toting trigger happy weapons specialist." He explained simply. "He's still on light duty though, since we had to completely rebuild his frame."

I twitched. "Another rule suddenly popped into mind. You shoot it, you fix it. Better yet; no shooting at all."

He snorted again. "Yeah, well, Ironhide 'll throw a bitch-fit."

I pursed my eyebrows. "Yeah, well, if he wants a sledge hammer to his hood while he's sleeping or in sleep mode or whatever it is you do, then tell him to fire away. Each shot will earn him a dent."

He gave me a two-fingered salute. "Whatever floats your boat." Jazz lowered his hand. "Now go to bed. Don't even think to try and leave; I'll be keeping an optic on all of your exits."

"What ever happened to the rule of you not telling me what to do?" I planted my hands on my hips, fully taking the weight of my throbbing foot.

"I'm interjecting that the rule you laid out starts tomorrow. So, shoo." He motioned me inside with his hands, and then changed silently back into a Pontiac. Without his engine ever seeming to start, he rolled back and parked in the spot where I usually parked my Jimmy.

I scowled and hobbled inside. I'd wait him out. It was somewhere around an hour and a half, I think, until midnight. Waiting that long would be as easy as a breeze. I hobbled to the couch, intent on reading a book, since I didn't have a TV that wasn't hooked up for an Nintendo 64. The TV that's in the living room doesn't actually have channels at all. My antenna had been blown away three years ago in a windstorm, and I wasn't about to waist money for a few channels and buy another one since the original antenna was broken beyond repair. Now, the only thing its good for is playing Super Mario brothers, or Yoshi's island. Sometimes Donkey Kong, if I'm in the mood for running around as a monkey on steroids.

Shuffling over to my bookshelf, I selected one of my books by Gena Showalter. Hobbling back to my couch, I flopped down, turning the light behind me on. Propping my foot up, I opened the cover page of The Darkest Night, part of the Lords of the Underworld series, and began to reread the story of Ashlyn Darrow and Maddox; two totally different people, born in different times, but how their strangeness and differences brought them together.

I didn't make it past where Ashlyn was put into the dungeon for the night. I fell asleep in my chair; my dreams changing and strange.


	9. Outlet

(_**Thanks for the reviews, folks! I enjoy reading every one of them, truly~ Anyways; time for the chapter I guess. Oh! My mouth is getting better. My tongue still feels and looks like a shallow slice of Swiss Cheese, but I am eating small amounts of solids! For the first time since waaaay last week! Yes! Food!**_

_**Ahem. No food rants for me. As usual, any mistakes are both mine and this devilishly cute Starscream shimeji that's crawling around my screen having babies of itself. To SeekerLuna, keep your hopes up girl, I'm here with you through all the bits that make ya cry~ Enjoy chapter 9~ I'm pooped, 'cause one of the cows in our field keeps screaming and wont let us sleep, even though she's perfectly fine, and just wants us to give her alfalfa. Hope it doesn't effect the quality.**_)

Apparently, according to my darling little cousins, I should be on bed rest, with the only movement aloud would be the movement of my arms to change the channel or play a game, and that I needed to be escorted to the bathroom and back so I didn't fall and hurt myself further, since I wouldn't use crutches. It was cute, truly, that these girls seemed to think they knew more about taking care of me then I did about taking care of myself. Much to Jazz's humor, as he told me the end of the first night of the week and a half he was going to be here without his little robot butt buddies, and much to my disgruntled unhappiness. I let it slide for the first day. I put off work, I sat in the house, acting like a slacker and playing Super Mario with the girls, and laughing when I got them playing Donkey Kong. But today, the day after was more then enough.

"No." I said to Hally. She was sitting on the chair, far enough out of reach of the couch I couldn't grab at the item she held. "Give it back, Hally." Skyler was sitting placidly next to me, staying out of this little rebellious moment.

She clutched the walking boot tighter and stood. The little scrap had stolen it while I slept last night, most likely with her sisters' help. "No, Torrie. Doctor said one week no moving. Not one day."

I frowned at her, showing my distaste. "Hally, don't make me three name you." She looked positively horrified. "That's right Hally. I know your middle name, and you will get scolded if you don't give me my boot right now, Hally."

Her lip puckered out, and she tried to puppy-dog face me into submission. "It's for your own good…"

I held out my hand and gave her the look I had practiced while mocking my mother as a child. "You have to the count of three, Hally, or you get three named and a time out for six minutes."

Her little eyes watered. "No."

"One." I twitched my fingers. "Two…"

Hally looked torn between giving it here and running and hiding it. "No, no, no, no, no!"

"Three." I said. I waggled my hand and waited for an internal count of four seconds. "Sit your rear right on that chair and don't move for the next six minutes." I said. She plopped her hinny down and started crying loudly. I set the timer on my watch and waited. "When those six minutes are up, Hally Anne-Marie Evans," I used her middle name, and she sobbed louder, "you _will_ give me that boot, or its back in time out for you."

Those were some of the longest six minutes of my life. Hally wailed, screamed, cried, and wiggled like some demon possessed child, yet her rear never lost its seat on the chair, and her hands never lost hold of the boot. She screamed like someone was butchering her with a fork, and then would make the most heart wrenching warbling inhaling sound before screaming again. It made me remember how much I hated those, but my aunt and uncle also rarely punished their kids. They weren't strict, unless it was bedtime or they had a guest over, and the girls got away with a lot. For as little as they were punished, they also were very good at sticking with the punishment, whatever it may have been.

When my watched marked the passing of the sixth minute, I waited untill her latest scream died down before I spoke. "Hally," I said calmly, "Your punishment is over. Now calmly come here, hand me the boot, and everything will be all right."

She got up with a sniffle and brought me my boot. Hally stood in front of me after she handed it too me while I put it on, and when I looked up, there was one of those angry six year old rebellious looks again. "Everything will not be alright!" Apparently that had been the wrong thing to say. "Our Mama and Papa are gone! Dead! Forever! Dey're not coming back! Damn it! We're all alone! Damn you too! Damn you, and damn all those robots to hell for taking my mommy and daddy! I wish mommy and Daddy were here instead of you! They would never have put me in timeout! I hate you right now Torrie! I hate you for being here when Mommy and Daddy can't be!"

That felt like a punch to the heart. I knew that Hally would miss her parents along with Skyler,- hell, I do too,- but I didn't think she'd be in such a tizzy over getting a time out… Her words stung. A lot. Sucking in a breath and steeling myself so I wouldn't speak with a lump in my throat, I spoke. "Hally, you don't use that kind of language at this age."

I was quick to reach out and scoop her up as she tried to get away. Hally let off another scream, sending Skyler skittering off the couch to escape the eardrum shattering noise as the feisty red head began to fight and thrash in my grip. The little blond moved to hide in the kitchen, most likely to escape her sister. I bent Hally over my knee, the one that didn't have the damaged foot, and held her there. Taking a breath, I tried to remember what my own Ma' had told me as Hally landed a downward kick on top of my bad foot, bringing tears to my eyes. Three firm swats to the rump for every bad word that is said. Four if it's the F-word, or five if it's the C-word. Hell, damn, and shit will be allowed come sophomore year. When you graduate, you can use whatever the hell language you want. That's what Mama said. She said five curse words. That was fifteen spankings.

Raising my hand and cupping it to give just the right amount of sting so she wouldn't want to do it again, I gave her a thump on the rump. For every thump, her screams would jump about four volume notches, but on the fifteenth and final, she fell into a helpless fit of sobs. Standing her upright, though I kept a firm hold on her shoulder, I stood with her, though my foot made my eyes see little black spots of pain. Hobbling towards my room, I brought her with me and then made her sit down on my bed. Crouching in front of her, sending more pained blotches across my vision, I made her teary blue eyes look at my own eyes.

"Hally, I need you to listen to me." I said. "I'm glad you got that off of your chest before it festered more, but you could have done it in a better way." Maybe. I remember some of my six-year-old fits. It was like terrible two's, only with more to it. I had thrown a fuss about anything there was to fuss about, even if it was minor or major. "Your going to stay in here until you calm down." She started to sob again. "Enough. This is not a time out. I need you to think about what you've just said." She sobbed again, and I gave her shoulders a gentle shake, to get her attention. "_Hally_. Look at me. You're in trouble. You've been bad. Now you can think about your actions, and know what they will bring the next time you decide to try this." I let her chin go and took her hand in mine and raised it up slightly, looking at her dainty knuckles. "Hally, I'm going out to the garage for a bit. If you need anything, come ask. But not for thirty minutes, unless its an emergency. You understand me? You've hurt me greatly Hally."

She blinked watery eyes up at me. "W-wha?"

I nodded to her slightly and ran my free hand over my hair, smoothing the curls back into their ponytail position. "You said that you'd rather have your mama and papa back. I understand that, I do. But how you said it, Hally, says you'd rather I be dead and them be alive." I pressed her palm to the spot above where my heart would be. "You hurt me here. You hurt me pretty bad. Next time, use that brilliant little brain of yours to think before you say, okay?" She sniffled, promising another hail of tears. I stood carefully before they could fall and hobbled from the room heading out to the front room where I found Skyler sitting on the couch, looking away from me as she clutched bell tightly. She looked like the epitome of depressed child.

I hobbled over and squatted down in front of her. She didn't appear to notice me, so I gently touched her arm. She turned green eyes to me and I gently scooped her up as I stood and hobbled into the kitchen to sit on the table. "Your sister will be alright, Skyler. She just… hasn't grieved enough yet. Trauma like that takes time to heal; but you know this too, don't you?" I said softly to the blond girl holding me tightly. "… Was I wrong in punishing her?" it was rhetorical. I didn't expect an answer, nor did I get one. "Probably, but also probably not…" I rubbed my forehead as I held Skyler to me with one hand. "In a little bit, you can go into my room and be with your sister. Perhaps you can calm her."

I sat with Skyler for a bit, and then I had to go work on getting the Jimmy back up and running. Gently setting her down, I placed a hand between her back and then gave her my watch. "See that hand there? When it reaches here," I pointed, "you can go to Hally. Okay?" She gave me a nod and then went to sit down.

I moved outside while rubbing my face.

…

I found myself with a dilemma about twenty minutes into my work in the barn. I was going to bang the dents out of my car, but someone had moved my sledgehammer to the upper floor. Anyone want to take a guess as to whom? Perhaps the one that's twice my size and then some, silver, and has a name that sounds like gas? I think you know whom I'm talking about. Anyways, I needed the hammer, and some of my car glue to reseal my rain guards, so that I would be able to drive with the windows cracked. One had shattered in the fall, and the other had been knocked loose by Jazz. By coincidence, my spare rain guard was also up there too.

I really need to find space to put stuff down here… But then I wouldn't have room to work on the cars; with all the stuff I already have down here, it would prove to be both s mess and a dangerous disaster.

I stared hard at the ladder from atop the set of stairs that lead up to it from the four or so feet it was from the ground, wishing it would magically turn into an escalader. Much to my dismal dismay, the ladder neither changed shape nor started acting like an escalader, and so I was simply answered by the heavy metal stairs below me creaking softly. I sucked in a breath and prepared myself for the painful crawl up to the top floor. Pacing as close to the ladder as I could, I reached up and closed my hands around the highest rung I could reach. Pulling my weight off the ground, I let my good leg curl up under me as I pulled myself up with my arms and then set my booted foot on the rung. Leaving one hand where I was at, I let go with the other and then secured the next rung of the ladder. Then it repeated all over again.

It was when I was closer to the top that my palms started to sweat, and then I started to slip. My hand slid from the rung I was holding, second from the top, and I ended up jarring my injured foot down to keep my balance so I didn't swing off the side of the ladder. My body recoiled from the pain, and I slid down the ladder, until I hit something warm and metal. I landed with a muffled, "oomph," on the hand holding me.

"You could have asked, Lil' femme, and I would have given you a hand getting up here." Jazz stared coolly at me. His other hand, I could see, was holding us suspended in the air by wrapping around the thick wooden support beam that did not so much as shift under his weight. His feet were several feet from the ground, and that only got farther for me as he lifted me carefully up to the top of the barn floor and set me down gently. "I'll be right here to bring you down." I gave a sigh and stomped off towards what I needed without thanking him… Okay, I didn't stomp. I did a hobble and a wobble, since my foot was officially killing me now. I was too tired to thank the bot, and I had too much on my mind. "You know," his voice called up after me, "it's considered polite to say thanks for having someone save your hide from becoming a gravitized human pancake."

I frowned as I searched for my shit that I needed. "Yeah, well, I have more important things on my mind then your feelings." Finding the sledgehammer was easy, and I dropped it in his palm, and then collected the rest of my stuff.

"Like the fact your cousin is taking out her grieving on you, and that you don't know if she hates you or not." Jazz summarized. I dropped the glue in his and with a narrowed look on my face. He rolled his shoulder. "I heard ya'll from out here. She used you as a very good outlet, didn't she?"

"That is none of your fucking business, robot." I scowled. Great… "Speaking of out here; you should be hidden away, not standing up where anyone can see you."

Again he shrugged, and I was rewarded with a head roll when I got the last few things I needed. "Yeah, well, I've got my scanners on them, and they're not ready to come out here just yet. In a few minutes I'll have to go hide, though."

I lowered myself into his palm, and then Jazz got us back down. "So you were watching us… with scanners?"

He shrugged as he set me down, flat on the ground, and then straightened. "Yes and no. I keep an eye on you in case of emergency, and if I need to get to you quickly." He dropped my tools, but handed me the fragile rain guard.

"Makes sense." I murmured, gathering my dropped tools and setting to work. "But if you watch us in the showers, I will show you a whole new meaning to whoop-ass."

"You wouldn't know if I did." He answered honestly.

"Its called women's intuition." I said. "It's kind of like how most women have gaydar, but its much more un-reliable."

"Gaydar?" Jazz asked.

I mixed up the glue and set to fixing my rain guards. "Yep. Use your fancy smancy computer brain to hack the Internet and look it up."

"Later I will." He commented dryly.

It was quiet for a moment, I hoped he'd leave, all save the constant humming of his inner mechanisms. The mechanic in me was curious about how these guys worked, and how one would repair them. Did they have parts like a car did? Or did they have their own set of internal organs like we did? The other part of me, the part I consider my sane self, loathed the fact that Jazz hadn't gone away when I had seemingly dismissed him with my silence. "So, are you going to let me work alone now?"

He hissed slightly. "I was not intending to. I want to know a bit more about our host, but your cousins are coming here now. I was given the _order_ from you for me not to be seen, and I will abide it for now." Turned my head to watch him stroll silently through the opposite barn door, away from the house to presumably go park himself. "I'll be back to talk to you later."

"Please don't." I hissed to myself. I gave a rather sore noise as I realized I had been distracted and had glued the cap to the glue bottle to my hand, and had to tear it off as I heard the front door to the house opening. Thankfully, the glue was still partially moist, and didn't take skin away with it.

Running my fingers along the edge of one, finding no problems, I went and sealed the other one shut, as I picked up on two sets of little shoes padding across the dry dirt. Pretending I didn't hear them, I went about my business as I purposefully ignored a soft childish throat clear.

Apparently, taking my ignorance as anger, there was a soft child-like whine. "Yes?" I asked finally. "What can I do for you, girls?"

Hally spoke softly. "Look at us, Torrie, please?"

Wiping my hands on my pants after checking the glue, I turned around and hobbled towards them. "Alright." Both girls stood in the doorway, Skyler holding Bell as per usual, and Hally looked haggard. Her eyes were red from crying and sobbing, and her hair was messy, but that was expected with how she had vehemently fought me.

Hally moved uncertainly forwards, but I neither discouraged nor encouraged her. She swallowed, her red tresses swinging, and then moved and hugged my hip. I rested my hand on her hair. "I'm sorry Torrie." She said. "I… I miss Mommy and Daddy, but it was mean to say I wanted you dead instead of them… I still want them back, but I don't want you to go ether."

"I know, kiddo… I know." I said softly.

"I wont say naughty words anymore, and I wont take your boot no more. I learned my lesson, and I don't like timeouts or spankings. They make me feel like I was a bad girl, and I don't want to be a bad girl. Bad girls get put on Santa's naughty list, and then they get scared real bad at Halloween too… I don't wana be a bad girl." She rubbed her face on my thigh. "Is…. Is it okay now?"

"It's as good as its going to get, squirt." I said softly, ruffling her hair.

"Okay…"

"Now, I still have some work to do," I said softly to her. "So I'm going to be busy today, but I'll stop early today so we can hang out, and so I don't overstress myself. Does that sound alright?"

"Yeah… I guess."

"Good, then," I ruffled her hair again. "Before I send you off to go try and beat my score at Pac-man, I have one question for you." Hally looked up at me, and I gave her a soft and tired smile. "Do you really hate me?"

Hally looked at me with honest truth in her eyes. "I don't really know. I don't want to hate you. I don't think I hate you. But I hate that Mommy and Daddy cant come back to us…" she then turned to go to the house and play games, as I had asked.

I pressed a palm to my face and gave a shuddering sigh. "My cousin hates me…"

A small set of arms wrapped around my undamaged leg and clung there. "She doesn't hate you." Skyler said, her voice soft, like the whisper of silk sheets on a bed. "She doesn't hate you, I can feel it, because she doesn't have a reason too. She loves you, like I do, but she misses Daddy and Mommy, and it makes her say mean things some times. She's sorry Torrie… Hally just doesn't know how to make it better without making it worse, and she tries to be strong for you and me too… Just sometimes it don' work for her. Wish I could help sissy… don't know how…"

I teared up slightly, just hearing the sheer conflicting emotions in Skyler's voice, and my heart throbbed in sympathy. She lost her parents, and I lost my uncle and aunt. We used to be a close-knit family, but now that we're all getting older and dieing off, we're falling apart, so it seems... She spoke. Skyler spoke, finally. It wasn't long for anyone to go without speaking, but to just see it in the child face that she wanted to talk but wouldn't just broke my heart. "I know." I said. "I know." I gently rubbed her hair with my hand. "Go join your sister, okay? And you gotta keep talking. If you talk, your sis 'll think your getting better, alright?"

"Mmm."


	10. It's My Life

(_**Heya all~ glad you somewhat liked the last chapter. This one gives Torrie her first D-con encounter 'cause I couldn't resist. Hehehe~ I bet you've never seen a 'con killed this way~ Enjoy chapter 10 with one of my classic catching up introductions~ I thought we'd give this a kick off with some kick-assness~ And I wanted to write something a little strange. Plus, it's going to put a monkey wrench in any 'sort' of friendship that could have even started. We'll be back in the negatives in friendship points between Torrie and the Autobots... BTW, I don't know if the box number is actually correct or not for the fireworks… I never actually looked at them much :P…**_

_**Yes, yes, I hurt Torrie a lot, but you know what? Its fun… and it reminds me of my luck~ time for her to go flirt with death some more~ Besides, she's kick ass, and doesn't really deem her life worth much.**_

_**THIS WILL MOST LIKELY BE A PAIRING, BUT WHOM DO I PAIR HER WITH? TWINS AGAIN? JAZZ? A TOASTER? LET ME KNOW BY REVIEW!**_)

Its July first, now, three days from the fourth of July, and the big fireworks display at Cheadel Lake. We wouldn't be there of course; we'd be here at my house, lighting off the jumbo box of fireworks, containing a little over 92 fireworks for a little under a hundred dollars. Expensive, I know, but for the fireworks in there, not including the six packages of sparklers, it's actually a really good deal. Wal-Mart has one for 86 bucks, but it has like, thirty or so in it, with a couple packages of the sparklers that damn near take a fucking blowtorch to light them up. Costco is the way to go for bulk items.

Today is the day that the quintessence of stress for me is going to arrive. Jazz left late last night while I was working on reformatting and adding something to my Kubota. He said he'd be back late this evening with all his little group, and that when Hally and Skyler were sleeping, I would hobble out to the field and meet them there for introductions. Joy.

For a robot with little manners, Jazz was all right. All right, meaning he made an okay elevator when I needed to go upstairs or down, my little jaunt some odd says ago not helping the healing process of my foot bones, and he was great for patching any leaks on the roof. When he wasn't commenting on some of my foul language, my family and the fact that I was, for the most part, a total mega-bitch to anyone outside of customers and family, he actually made a fair conversationalist, though usually I just tried to ignore him and continue my work as he would jabber and hide from the twins when they raced in to see if I ether needed more tea or if they needed help opening or reaching something. For something I loathed, he was all right I guess… but if anyone ever asks me my opinion, I'll say he's a right bastard. Yep.

Inadvertently, as he would babble to me to most likely keep himself sane as I suspected, I learned various things about their culture. I learned that when they had babies, that the babies were called sparklings. Then sparklings would grow into younglings, then into their adolescents, where they could be classified as Mech or Femme, sometimes both if they had the parts. Femmes were curvier, and usually less boxy, though the chest was usually rounder, then a mech. Mechs usually were bulky, built to do major damage in the front lines, though a few select could be mistake for femmes, usually because they also had the ability to carry young as well. I also picked up some of their curses. Jazz had let a few slip from his mouth when one of the barn mice crawled into his wiring. He also told me about some of the Decepticons, like Bonecrusher, killed in Mission City, Barricade, killed in Chicago, and then Soundwave, who had been found out that he was not dead, but they didn't know where he was. He also said that some humans had been collaborating with the Decepticons.

You learn lots of things by listening to a giant robot babble like a senile old lady. You also learn that they pick up on the meaning of the little finger really fast, when you tell them they sound like a senile old lady.

The twins usually brought me tea every two hours or so, claiming if I wasn't going to sit and do nothing, then I needed to stay hydrated. The girls, for the most part, were still very much city oriented. They disliked going outside in the sun almost as much as I disliked the horrible sweltering heat that kept pounding the Willamette Valley like persistent fires from the darkest depths of hell. It also turns out that Skyler has a rather sever reaction to bee stings, much like I do. There's a reason that I have multiple epi-pens in the various locations around my property. My home has lots; I have some in a little cubby on my tractor, in my shop, and in the glove box of my car. Skyler, also, shut herself up again. She doesn't speak unless she has no way to express what she wants.

I also managed to get the girls beds of their own, and their room is set up how they like it. Skyler went with a soft blue for her side, and Hally went with the most obnoxious shade of yellow she could find. The colors contrast so much that it actually hurts my eyes when I go in there to do laundry. But, having their own rooms does not mean that they don't slip into my room when they have nightmares. So far, since they got their rooms all set, they've slept in there three times, but one of those three, they moved and snuck into my room around four in the morning. That's where they're napping now; my room, with sound-poof head phones on so I don't wake them with my work.

The Jimmy's restorations have gone slow. As in, they've stopped all together. I've fixed the axels, beat out all the dents I could find, refilled my car with NOS, and fixed my windows along with scrub some of the muck off. There wasn't much more I could do, though, not without full range of mobility in my grasp. If I can't walk correctly, how am I supposed to carry all those heavier parts about? Regardless, with y attention woefully drawn from my Jimmy, I've decided to give my Kubota an addition. What is this addition you ask?

I'm in the process of equipping my four and a half ton Kubota with NOS. Why, you ask? Because who doesn't want a nine thousand pound tractor with a three and a half foot long metal prong in place of a bucket to go a little over eighty, ninety if the pistons and cylinders are given time to speed up? Some one who doesn't have a like for the rush the speed brings, that's who… and my cousins.

Tightening the last bolt to hold the NOS cylinders in place in the tractor, I practically crowed with excitement. I can't wait to test this baby out! I know it'll work, 'cause I've hooked up NOS for people in so many various things that I could almost do this in my sleep. The hardest thing to hook NOS up in, though, was a MoPed, or whatever those motorized scooters are called.

Crawling out from underneath the Kubota, I smiled happily and brushed back a frizzy curl of my hair that had escaped the confines of my ponytail. Jerking my gingers back from the tractor as I shocked it and me when I grabbed it to stabilize myself, I couldn't lose the grin. "I am so taking you for a test drive after I go get something to drink." Speaking to myself and the piece of machinery as I usually did, I patted the metal, the small zzt noise as I shocked the tractor and myself sounded out. I sighed. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that." Turning, I hobbled towards the house. For safety purposes, I had moved the tractor out into one of the fields earlier this morning, so, naturally, I had a rather long walk back.

I walked through some of the timber stands, stopping to admire a few of the blackberries, though I skirted them so I didn't disturb the bee's working on pollinating them. As I passed close to my house, I heard heavy steps outside my house, though they weren't as heavy as Jazz's, they weren't human light ether. Peaking around my house, I saw that there was a much shorter purplish robot. He was standing and peering through my bedroom window at the twins, and his hands were these things that looked like pile drivers, though there were hands tucked farther up. The pile driving bits were twitching, as if to squish something. I felt dread curl its ugly head into my stomach, rearing up to touch my heart as I made out the large purple-black face that took up most of the shoulder. Overall, he was kind of boxy like some sort of giant videotape, but the red eyes that reflected off the glass of the house made him seem incredibly scary.

Perhaps… perhaps they still have human allies? Swallowing, I figured that he would ether squash me first, or my cousins. I had to do something, seeing as he looked as if he wanted to use those pile drivers of his. Straightening my 'titanium' spine, as my grandpappy had said I once had, I hobbled out around the house, arching a brow. "Can I help you?"

The robot jerked around, lifting his lip briefly as if to sneer, and then gazing curiously at me. "Yes." He blinked those nasty red eyes at me, and my skin crawled. "What are those little things in this little metal shack? They are smaller then you. What are you? Organic?" He tilted his head. "I've never been to this mud-ball before."

Ah, so he was a newbie here. I was tempted to screw with his head… but that's playing ding-dong-ditch with the grim reaper… Grandma always said that Evan's play that game with death. "I'm a human. Also called a squishy, fleshling, and apparently, I would make something of a nasty mess if I'm smashed under something because my internal fluids spray and ooze everywhere. Humans are compulsive, strongly influenced by protective instincts for their families, bull headed, determined, and usually one big bluff, and some of them are usually too stupid and ballsy for their own good." I answered calmly. "Those are human sparklings," I used his kinds term so I didn't have to explain anything else, "that's why they're smaller. Earth is the place where the battle for the… Allspark I think it was, took place. Who are you?"

"Rumble." The piston things on his arms moved in and out once. "For obvious reasons. You know much about our kind. Is there a treaty here?" his eyes wandered to Skyler and Hally. "They are adorable sparklings, for an organic race."

"Nope." I answered. "War has happened here between the two sides a lot. It affected everyone; some more then others."

He tilted his head cautiously. "What faction? I sense a left over Autobot signature here. I followed it here earlier."

Planting a hand on my hip, I secretly sweated on the inside, though the sun was making me perspire outside. Wiping my other hand across my forehead, I tilted my eyes to see him better. He wasn't much bigger then I was; roughly nine foot tall I'd guess. Drumming up a lie supplied by Jazz's ramblings earlier, I spouted it out. "I had been one of the Decepticon's suppliers for parts and info, but my government contact, or higher command, doesn't know, and has decided to force me to house the Autobots until they find another better place to house them." I put a disgruntled look on my face.

He shifted his pistons. "Are you lying? You are… perspiring. Nervous perhaps?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Unfortunately for Humans, the sunlight makes us overheat and then, where you have cooling fans," another fact Jazz had chattered out, "we small flesh creatures sweat to keep cooler. Its rather nasty, in fact, and is something that is unavoidable in the sunlight." I answered. "As for lying, well, I haven't heard from Barricade since the whole Chicago disaster."

Rumble twitched nervously. "You… You had contact with Barricade? I… I didn't mean to offend you if I did. He… scares me. He tortures bots, you know. I don't know if he's dead or alive, but… Only Soundwave scares him. Lord Megatron did too, but he died. Soundwave 'll punish me if he knows I was here. Don't tell Barricade, please, if you see him? I'm not supposed to be here. If you tell, I'll come back and turn you into mush, regardless of how your nasty organic innards slime my gears."

"Okay." Not that I ever planned to. I tilted my head. "Yeah. Unfortunately, my cousins, the little sparklings inside, don't know that we're on your side," another lie, "so if you could not wake them I'd appreciate it." My mouth felt full of sand. "I have some work to do… and that Autobot will be back soon with his buttbuddies."

Rumble sighed. "I wana watch them for a bit. I'll leave later." There was no room for argument, though, 'cause he turned around to continue to watch my cousins and twitch his pistons. He made me nervous…

"Alright. I just came over here because I heard you walking." I held up my hands and turned around, a plan hatching in my head. "I'll be working on my tractor. If you hear the engine, that means I'm taking it for a test drive."

"Go 'way. One of them just moved." He muttered. "Leave me to watch them, I I squish them, your choice."

I moved as fast as I could to my tractor, letting him know that's what my choice was, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. I had John's number in my phone, and as I took a seat in the tractors seat, I hit dial. The engine drowned out my words, but it wasn't John that answered.

"Torrie?" Jazz asked. "What's wrong?"

"I really don't care that you just intercepted my call, but I really have a problem here." I said softly.

"What is it?"

"Your stupid war has been brought, literally almost, to knocking on my window. There's a Decepticon named Rumble standing outside my window watching my cousins."

"Torrie, why isn't he attacking you?"

"I may or may not have lied about being a Decepticon part supplier to Barricade, who apparently scares him. But… I think he means to leave me be and squash my cousins."

"Good job lying. Your not really the best of liars, or at least to me your not. I'm on my way, Torrie, and so is two of my companions, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. We've got a couple of our human comrades in rout as well. Keep him entertained if you can; he's childish and easily amused. Don't let him harm you, or your cousins. His size may be small, but he can topple anything or crush anything with those pile-driving pistons of his. Whatever you do, don't anger him or attack him. He will kill you, your family, and anyone close to you without feeling regret at all. Keep your phone on, Torrie, I'm tracking it, so if he tried to take you, I want you to run."

"I'm not helpless Jazz." I scolded. "I'm getting the threat away from my family."

"Crazy femme." A dark voice hummed into my ear. "Jazz is right. Don't confront him; your malleable fleshy body will be crushed. Then we'll have to live through one of Optimus's scolding speeches again, about how we need to get our afts moving and teach our human friends better. Bah. Humans."

"Don't mind Sunstreaker," Jazz spoke again, "But seriously. _**Don't**_ take him on, Torrie. He will kill you."

"Yeah," a slightly less darker voice then 'Sunstreaker's' sounded out. "Don't take Sunny's words lightly. He means what he says."

"I don't think you guys remember, but he thinks I'm an ally." I hissed. The engine was warming up… almost warm enough now. "I'm going to give him the surprise of his life, and its coming in the form of a nine thousand pound Kubota tractor."

"Torrie." Jazz snapped suddenly. "You move that tractor of your from wherever your idling it, I will not hesitate in punishing you. I'm the third in command, and I can do it. Don't disobey direct orders."

I curled my lip, my ire irked more. He lost points with me, dropping him further down in the negatives. He was down there somewhere with phone solicitors and government people. "Remember rule number three? Yeah, that's still in action. It's my life, I do with it what I want. I ain't gonna live forever anyways. New fact for you, you silver fuck. That's my family. Don't _ever_ tell me to stand by when my family is in danger. And for your information; I am _not_ on your side, and I'm not on the Decepticons' ether. I want all of you to die horrible deaths, but his will be first. Don't try and order someone around, when you don't have the authority to do so, you scut legged swaggering slag faced fucktard." I clicked the end button, but it only killed Jazz's voice. The other two, Sunstreaker and mister unknown kept talking as the tractor warmed up.

The unknown voice tsked. "I'd heard humans were strong spirited."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Not to mention stupid, nasty, slimy, and all other nasty things, Sideswipe."

"I can still hear you, sunshine." I grunted over the tractors engine. "For that, when you sleep, I'm going to fill your interior with squirrels." If I could catch them… and if I lived to do it. I tied myself in with a harness made of rope, tucking it around my waist and shoulders and then tying it to the very frame of my tractor.

"Frag off, fleshling. I don't care for Prime's laws. I will squash you flatter then the pavement beneath my wheels."

Sideswipe, obviously the other robot, hummed. "He'll do it too, fleshling."

"Fuck off, robot. I'll slash your tires with a box cutter." I clicked it off again, and this time, unfortunately, if left Sunshine to bitch at me.

"Do it fleshy, I dare you."

"Blow it out your tailpipe, Sunshine, I've got something to do."

"Like what?"

"Tell Jazz that the NOS wasn't a stupid idea."

I clicked the phone off again, and it went fully dead, the dial tone a mocking sound in my ear. As I tucked it in my pocket, I heard it go off. Pulling it out, I turned it on and went to tell off Jazz again when I heard someone else familiar taking in small wibbling tones into my ear.

My heart clenched, and my resolved strengthened. "Torrie?" Skyler called into the phone, sobbing. "Th-theres one of those wobots outside the window! Its one of da bad ones! Torrie where are you?" She gave a soft outcry, and I heard Hally in the background with her. "He's trying to reach us through the window!" there was a shrill scream from Hally, and I heard Rumble tear a hole through the metal frame around the window as he reached for them.

I slammed the tractor into Rabbit gear, the highest it would go, and it lurched off, gaining speed. "I'm coming honey, I'm coming. I'm on the tractor; stay back from the window, alright? Get into the hallway if you can."

"C-c-c-c-c-caaaaaaa_aaaaa_n't!" she wailed loudly. "His hands in the way! He'll get us Torrie! Torrie! He's trying to get in farther! _Torrie!_" She wailed louder, and I could hear muffled shouts from Rumble for her to shut the frag up.

As I cleared the tree line, I saw he was indeed plowing his way slowly through my house, seeming to have fun tormenting my family. I let loose a shrill whistle as I flipped the switch on my steering wheel for the NOS to be activated. My back slammed against my seat, and the tractor jerked forwards, flying past fifty to sixty, sixty to seventy, seventy to eighty, and even farther. My lips pulled back from my teeth, the g-force behind it making my body want to rip away from the tractor. The rope I had tied around me to act as a seat belt ended up cutting a line in my stomach and shoulders, the pressure trying to rip me away was so great. I lifted a hand and adjusted the tri-pronged attachment at the front; the longest a bit farther then three feet long, and the others a few inches past two feet.

Rumble pulled back from my house, his pistons going ninety miles an hour as his clawed hands held the crushed remains of my box-fan. He turned startled red eyes to me, fully facing me, and to tell you the truth, I swear I saw the hellfire burning in my eyes reflecting back from his. Skyler and Hally screamed in the phone again, just as I rammed the prongs through the Cybertronian before me right in front of the hole in my house.

The velocity that the NOS had given all nine thousand something pounds of the large Kubota tractor kept us going, speeding up in fact, as we ran past the barn, narrowly escaping hitting it, and into the trees towards one of my fields. Fleetingly, I swear I saw the lights of my Jimmy flicker on and then off again.

Some sort of blue liquid splattered over me from the puncture holes, and it felt like it was slightly burning me, like a sunburn. Rumble screamed, the sound drowning out my tractors engine, as we knocked over one of the non-virgin trees. I hoisted him higher with the tractors hydraulics, more fluids of his splashing over my face and in my mouth. He swung his hands to try and hit the hydraulics of my tractor, but his pistons got in the way. He couldn't even angle those correctly to hurt the tractor with that ether. Helpless, he screamed again as we neared the stand of thick virgin timber.

The NOS ran out about that time, and it was good too. I rammed the tractor into one of the trees I had hit while learning to drive in an old ford. The tree didn't so much as budge; simply sending a shower of fir cones down on us. The prongs went into the bark, locking us there, and at the sudden jolt, I was sent forwards. I heard the sound of Rumble's pained cry just about the time my chest hit the steering wheel and my chin hit the top, making me bite my tongue, and something gave in my chest as the air whooshed from my lungs, and I saw black dots for the longest time.

I don't know how long I faded in and out, my foot still holding the petal down, and my hands still in the same position as before. I heard rumble speaking, and forced myself to lift my head to gaze hatefully up at him. "Why?" he gurgled. I had put one through where his collarbone would have been, and the others through where his lungs would have ended, if he had them. "You were… Decepticon."

I wheezed, spitting blood from my mouth as it mingled with the sour blue fluids from his body. I swallowed whatever I couldn't get rid of, and then more of my blood filled my mouth from my tongue. Letting it fall from my mouth, I coughed and hacked, heaving to get air back into my deprived lungs. When I had enough that the black dots were gone, I coughed again. "Lied." I spat out more tongue-blood, letting it fall into my lap. The ropes around me burned painfully, and I knew I would have bruises. My ribs screamed when I moved, and one of then grinded unnaturally. "Never on your side… Called Autobots. Be here soon."

Rumble seemed to cough up more of his own blood as he feebly tried to get himself free. The wheels of the tractor spun on the dirt, digging in. they weren't going anywhere. "I know. I hear them."

I couldn't hear anything over my own beating heart and the roar of the engine. My phone was murmuring too… I leaned my hand down and held it. "Skyler?" I asked, my tongue numb with adrenaline. "Hally?"

"Torrie?" I heard Hally. "Where are you? We're following your tire tracks." She sniffed into the phone. Apparently, she had taken the new cordless with her. "Are you okay?"

I hacked out another glob and made a noise. "Yes. Don't come here; it's not safe. There will be more robots here soon to take care of this one."

"Don't care." She let off a soft sobbing noise, echoed by her sister. "Want our Torrie!"

I let out a cough, my chest hurting again. "Okay, okay." My mouth felt numb. "Follow the tracks. Its not pretty, girls, and I cant get down from the tractor until the other bots get here."

"'Kay…"

"I didn't want to hurt them, you know." Rumble said. "I just wanted to hold 'em. They looked so cute… Soundwave once told me not to mess with sparklings, or their parents would hurt me. I guess he was right…"

I didn't comment on the fact they weren't my daughters, instead I let my head rest on the wheel sorely. The bandage that hid my healing scar protected it from the fluids coating me. I heard the sounds of wheels zooming across the bumpy ground, and then the familiar sound of Jazz's transformation along with two other unfamiliar ones. I also heard two other cars pull to a stop, and then there were the sounds of human boots, about four pairs, that stomped out from the stationary vehicles.

Something touched my back, and I jerked slightly, sitting up and looking at Jazz. Blood bubbled past my lips again, and I gave him a bloody grin. "Told you, I wasn't getting helping. I got him away from my family." Jazz cast me a dark look from behind his visor.

Someone stepped up to my left, and I turned my head to look at a tall and sandy blond man. He was watching Rumble wearily, but the bot had fallen hopelessly limp, gazing behind us as if seeing his own death. Perhaps he was. He reached out to gently touch my arm and try and remove my hand from the wheel. I tightened my grip. "Come on, Ms. Evans. We need to get you out of here and to Ratchet. You might have Energon poisoning, with the amount on your skin." He spoke with a confident tone, though weary. "I am William Lennox, you can call me Will."

I shook my head and blood bubbled out again as I spoke to him. "Not leaving. My home, my rules. I'm fine. I have my cousins to concern with." I narrowed my eyes. "If I let go, this thing will slow down and let Rumble go."

I recognized Sunstreaker's voice from somewhere behind me. "Then let him go. He wont get away; not this time."

Rumble let out a keen. "Kill me. Just kill me. They'll torture me."

I heard the sound of a buzz starting up, just as Lennox thre himself on top of me to sheld me, unknowingly make my rib grind again and making me cry out. There was a 'pftoom' noise, and then Lennox let me up. There was a hole where Rumble's head used to be, and his whole body was limp and fading colors slowly.

I turned off the tractor and uneasily unclenched my hands from around their respective spots. I couldn't get the roped to untie, though. "Knife?" I asked Lennox. "Please." He handed me a standard military issue knife, and I used it to cut away my bonds. The ropes fell away, and I felt like Jello. I handed the knife back, and then cast him a look. "Move back, I want down. I need to find my cousins."

He blinked. "There are more civilians here? Where are they?"

I curled my bloody lip at him. "I don't know. Move or I kick you out of my way. I need to find them; it's not safe for two six year olds to wander around out here."

A hand lifted me up carefully, and I recognized it at Jazz's. I glanced up at him, wincing at the pressure on my chest. "Put me down."

Jazz frowned at me. "You put yourself in danger."

I lifted my lip again. "Set me down now."

He seemed to tighten his grip slightly. "You disobeyed orders. As my temporary charge, it is key to follow orders for your own survival."

"Put." I pronounced each word. "Me. Down. Now. Your hurting me."

As if there was a jolt through his systems, he set me down gently and then turned to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. I took a second to gaze at them, one red and one yellow, but didn't dally in that. I have family to find. "Lets get him off the prongs."

The soldiers flocked to me as I hobbled and followed my tracks. I stood taller then all of them, yet it seems that instinct still says to protect the female. Or perhaps they had orders. I don't really care. I hurried as fast as I could, cradling my ribs, as I reached the tree line. "Skyler!" I yelled, spitting out a small glob of blood. "Hally!"

The guns cocked behind me as the bushes rattled. I moved forwards and opened my arms. Two scratched up and terrified six year old bolted from the bushes, and I shielded them with my back as I curled around them, not caring how it hurt. They started sobbing loudly, and when no one fired, I gently hoisted them up painfully and turned around. My foot throbbed in the boot, and my knee wavered. Lennox stepped forwards and put an arm under my elbow, guiding me back the way we had come without a word against bringing them to the site of Rumble's death.

"Your hurt Torrie!" Hally sobbed. "Why, why, why, why, _why_ you always get ouchies? Why!"

"Its my luck, kiddo." I wheezed. Skyler buried her face in my neck with Hally as we came upon the sight of the bots, and Skyler screamed again, muffled by my neck. I halted. "I cant bring them here." I said. "They're terrified of robots…"

Sideswipe, I watched, elbowed the yellow one. "Hey, bro, look. Human sparklings."

I curled my lip and said loud enough for him to hear, "You touch them, come near them, bother them in any way, and you'll find yourself on the ends of my tractors prongs instead of Rumble."

Sunstreaker snorted. "Whatever, fleshling."

"I have a sledge hammer with your name on it, blondie." I held my cousins protectively and ducked under the hatchbacks of one of their cars. There, despite my pains, I rocked my cousins to calm them and myself. My heart kept racing, despite the fact that they were safe now.

(_**if you can find it, you can see a little hint of what the all-spark shard did to her.**_)


	11. Left To Be Desired

(_**Thanks for your votes! Here's the tally thus far:**_

_**Twins: 4**_

_**Toaster: 1 {my mother said her vote counted so… I had to obey!}**_

_**Jazz: 7**_

_**Prowl: 1**_

_**Dino/Mirage: 1**_

_**Voting still has a few more chapters until I'll close it :3 we'll see how it end up ~ I have plots for ether, but admittedly, I could do a lot more with the twins :P**_

_**Short chapter after a long one; I am evil :P**_

_**Anyways, enjoy 11~**_)

Skyler sat on the ground next to my uninjured leg. She had one arm curled around Bell, having made me fetch her from the wreckage of my bedroom, the other looped around my shin. Skyler made not a peep, not even a whimper, as she numbly stayed with me. No doubt she was remembering the sounds of her parents deaths; she had been on the phone with them when they were killed, as I was told by an agent. Hally sat with her head in her sisters' lap, her face curled into her twins' stomach as she sniffled and snorted slightly. Idly, my hand stroked Skyler's dirty blond hair.

I was clean of the strange blue goop; the only exception had been the stuff I had unfortunately swallowed. I hadn't said anything about it; I didn't feel the need. The man who introduced himself previously, Lennox, had made me rinse down. My bathroom had also been mutilated, though the toilet was mercilessly left alone, so I had to rinse off with the hose. Hally and Skyler had unenthusiastically helped me rinse as the soldiers and the robots set off to make sure there were no more Decepticons. I had been reduced to walking around in my sports bra, since my shirt was… well… nasty. It wasn't like the blue bra wasn't ether, but it had the least amount of blood on it.

It was moments like this when I was glad that being a mechanic and a ruff and tumble farm girl had left me with few spots that weren't muscled more so then the average woman. The only spot that wasn't muscled was the slight pudge to my lower stomach, near my hips. That, unfortunately, was something I couldn't get to go away, no matter how many crunches I did, or whatever I did to make the weight go away. And, I guess to be honest, my ass is big. Heart shaped, but still, big. Not shelf big, but I have big hips and that shows in my ass and thighs. My jeans still covered my legs, so I was saved one embarrassment for the day.

My tongue had stopped bleeding about an hour ago; I had bitten clean through the center of it, and it had torn slightly, almost completely to the tip. If it had, I would have had a forked tongue. Lucky for me, it would be healed in a week or two, maybe less. Out of all the human parts of our bodies, our tongues literally heal the fastest. As for my ribs; Jazz told me, with his meager ability to scan our human bodies, that I had gone and broke two of my ribs and cracked another. It wasn't something I hadn't done before; broken ribs were usually a cause and effect deal. The cause of mine usually were from when I was in my teen and child years; climbing trees, attempting to jump the ravine, rope swing gone incorrectly, or even the time I tried to act like a barrel rolling clown in a circus. Broken bones were practically family… considering they were usually inside our bodies.

My gaze drifted sideways slightly, gazing at Jazz. He had come back about thirty minutes ago, transformed down to his Solstice form, and then hadn't said a peep beyond the occasional medical advice, and that the bots were cutting their show short to come up here quicker. Jazz had also said that the bones in my ribs hadn't splintered, meaning no bone shards to pierce my soft and squishy organs, but he said I needed Ratchet, the mechanic and medic to the Autobot faction as I had come to understand, to take a look at me to be sure. He said Ratchet had left earlier then the rest, and would be here in ten, fifteen minutes depending on the traffic.

I gazed away to look at the ruins of my home. I had grown up there; the trailer old enough to have been my home from infantry until now. My lips cracked dryly as I stretched my mouth into a dry and weary smile. It would have lasted much longer if I hadn't been stuck with these robots… The whole side of my room was in tatters; my dressers and clothes were dirty but fine, though my great grandma's giant wardrobe now needed new paint on it. Several of my other heirlooms, not worth much but the sentimental value now that the economy has gone to shit, had been damaged as well, including great great grandpa Orval's red cedar box that he had used to propose to his wife, my great great granma, Opal. The box, to this day, still smells like cedar; even damaged as it was. My bed was destroyed; completely. The wooden and hardy frame was all right, but my mattress was literally in pieces everywhere along with my carpet, my drapes for the windows, and my blankets. Insurance, though, would replace the house with a newer model, since these models weren't made anymore, and it would also replace everything damaged inside. As for the tractor and anything else; I was on my own.

Miraculously, my Kubota only had minor damage. There were some dents to the hydraulics, and the hydraulic system needed to be tuned up and replaced due to strain. The prong was bent, or had been, but Sideswipe had bent it back as easily as if someone were snapping a toothpick in half. The treads on the tires were worn out; and I needed to check the brakes whenever I got around to it.

It would be a long while, unfortunately, before I would be healthy enough to do much of these… that means I would have to hijack one of the Autobots for grocery shopping… Food. Houses. I sighed. We'd be sleeping ether in the twin's room, or in the barn. The barn was fully hospitable; it had a small room near my office that would work if we cleared it out. There's also the upstairs, if the girls didn't feel safe on the ground. I need to ask.

Peeling my lips apart, I used my damaged tongue to wet my lips. "Girls?"

Hally looked up at me, her blue eyes still glassy from all the sobbing she had done previously. "Yes Torrie?"

I hummed softly. "Do you want to sleep in the house tonight, or do you want me to move the beds to the barn until the insurance people can get around to getting us a new house?"

Hally curled her face back into Skyler's stomach, and Skyler answered instead. "Barn." She said softly. "No house. Not now."

I swallowed thickly and nodded. "Alright. We'll have to use your beds and push them together." My mouth felt dry again. "I'm not going to be able to carry them. I'll have to ask the soldiers…"

Skyler nodded against my knee. "That's fine… When are they going away?"

"The soldiers?"

Skyler shook her head on my knee again. "No."

"Autobots."

"Yes."

"I don't know." I rubbed my neck offhandedly, wincing when the movement pulled on my ribs. "Not for a long time, though."

There was a sniff. "Make 'm go 'way." Hally said, her voice muffled by her sisters stomach. "They're bad…"

I shook my head reluctantly. "They're not that bad. These are the good guys." I said with a tired truth in my voice. "They're here to help; but they don't have homes. John said they can stay here."

Hally whined. "Don't want em. Evict them."

"I can't." I said, exasperated. "The government wont let me."

"Do it anyways."

"I'll do it if you want to leave too." I said stiffly. It caught their attention, and both of them looked up at me. "If I make them leave, the government will take you in retaliation." I shifted again and looked down at them fully. "I don't like that they're up here ether; but if it means I get to keep you two, then I'm willing to put up with it."

Skyler nodded again, and this time Hally spoke. "So… it was ether we stay and they stay, or you get rid of them and lose us?"

I nodded. "Yes." Focusing my pale irises on Hally's blue ones, I gave her a soft smile. "You two are worth more then anything in the world to me."

"Mean it?"

I nodded again. "Yes."

"Then they can stay." Skyler murmured softly. "Only so we don't have to leave you."

"Oh, children," I sighed softly. "I wouldn't let them take you." I gave Skyler a gentle stroke through her dirty hair. "We'd run. I'd empty the savings, we'd flee, and we live under new names in some far off country… Canada? Russia? Turkey?"

Hally gave me the strangest look. "There's a country inside a turkey?"

I smiled softly. "No, no. When you're older, I'll teach you about the world. But, anyways… We'd live under new names. I'd be… I dunno… Gretchen? Skyler, you'd be… Sandra, and Hally, you would be… Jamie. You just say the word, and I'll sweep you all away."

Skyler let off a soft and dry giggle. "No Gretchen. We'll stay."

I smiled tiredly. "Good. I don't think I can run that far with a broken foot and no car. Flintstones style isn't that appealing." Hally gave me a soft laugh, but they both cringed down into my leg as Jazz transformed again. Hally lurched across Skylers lap to grab my injured leg and bury her face in it, while Skyler hid her face in my thigh. I glanced up at him, irritated. "What?" my tongue started to split with the force I used to spit out the word.

"We were unaware that you were unwillingly hosting us here on your land." Jazz commented softly. Don't worry; we'll help however we can." It seemed his temper had cooled down now. Civil talk seemed manageable for the moment. "Ratchet had informed me that he has pulled into your driveway with what also happens to be Ironhide, his other patient."

"The trigger happy fucktard?"

He gave an irritated trill, planting his clawed hands on his hips. "Language please, there are sparklings ears here. Yes, that Ironhide. Don't worry though; he's good with kids."

"The girls know not to use the language now, so I have no reason not to." I curled my lip defiantly. "Skyler and Hally wont go anywhere near him, or any of you for that matter, unless it is unavoidable, or if they so choose to and inform me of it."

Hally whimpered into my leg. "No robot…"

Lennox walked up, his gun in its resting position. "The property is clear; the twins stayed back to clean up the energon spill, though they should be done soon." He eyed me slightly. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I lied easily.

"She was just telling me that her cousins weren't going anywhere near Ironhide or us unless they decided to." Jazz supplied, correcting my lie.

Lennox frowned at me. "Ironhide may seem rough and tumble on the outside, but when it comes to kids, he's got a soft spot for them. He got along well with my Annabelle, and has been around her since she was just a few months old."

I canted my head. "What you do with your children is your own business; what I do with mine is my business. Now butt-out, soldier boy."

He crossed his arms and arched a dirty blond-brown brow. "Show a little trust, kid. We fight for your country, to keep you all safe."

I snorted. "Sorry, for a second you actually sounded sincere. I don't give a rat's ass. I don't like the government, or its fratboys and jocks."

He turned to look up at Jazz. "Is she always this friendly?"

Jazz tilted his head back with a sigh. "Only when she's hurt or you try and govern her life, or you try and give advice, or tell her she's snappish, the list goes on and on."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm a right old bitch." I snapped. "Off the subject.

Jazz held out a hand. "See what I mean?"

Lennox nodded. "Yep." Turning his gaze back to me, he frowned. "You don't have to be so defensive, no one here is going to hurt you or your cousins. A few people and robots aren't going to hurt you"

I curled my lip. "I'm defensive because that's how I am. I don't like people, robots, anything in-between. I'm no socialite, and you best get to know it well."

Lennox sighed. "Listen, Ms. Evans. I don't want to heckle you with things that are just going to blow through the hole where your missing gray matter, so just let me say this. Will you please clean up how you speak to the Autobots? They haven't done anything but help everyone. They've earned my respect."

"They're in the negatives with mine." I hissed back. My hand flew to my mouth as my tongue opened up again, blood welling up to fill my tongue. Hally passed me a clean rag that was used for staunching blood flow, and I stuffed it in my mouth, snarling around it. "Geee waaay efhore aii kikh yu en da mutts."

He blinked. "What?"

Hally looked up at him, her blue eyes unhappy. "She said get away 'fore she kicks you in the mutts."

"Nuts." Skyler murmured softly in correction.

Lennox held up a hand and backed off. "Be warned; some of the bots wont take kindly to your attitude and are likely to try and put you straight."

I took the rag out of my mouth and threw it at him. He dodged it nimbly, but left me alone to dribble my blood down my face and into my bra.

Jazz hummed. "You sure have a way with words."

I flipped him the finger tiredly.

Skyler glanced up at me with an innocent worry in her eyes. "Your bleeding 'gain."

"Noticed." I said offhandedly.

There was the sound of a medical siren approaching, and then an ambulance half rolled and have walked out of the trees as he transformed. Behind him, a black GMC top kick was transforming as well, though he was slower and seemed to be gimping.

The ambulance I figured was Ratchet, because he was said to be a medical officer. The truck probably was Ironhide, because there was no one else with them. Ratchet helped Ironhide to sit down against one of my trees, and then strode towards me with a purpose on his step. The big black robot's eyes zeroed in on Skyler and Hally, seeming to narrow as they shrank away from Ratchet, hiding behind my legs. The robot's colors hurt my eyes as he leaned down and ran a scan over me. I could practically feel him looking at each separate piece of my anatomy; running scans deep enough to burn my very blood cells.

"Hmm." His voice was deep, very strict sounding. "You, young femme, should be in bed resting, not up sitting out here in your underskins. Your tongue is torn, your blood level is low, though your stress, as well as the sparklings, reads higher then is good for your kind." He observed. "It seems your bones are broken, fractured, and your tissue will be bruised within the next hour. Your body is overstressed, over worked, and you might have a touch of whiplash and a concussion from your impact with the tree." He held out a hand. "Come. Let us get you to your abode."

I stayed planted on the tailgate. "Not happening. My house is torn apart, and I need to start clearing out my office bulk stock and small parts room so I can get it turned into an acceptable place to sleep until we can replace my house."

The robot seemed to snort; a big gust of hot, oily smelling air rolled over me and made me cough. "Nonsense. You will rest within Ironhide while we prepare the proper places for you and your family unit to rest. You have a mate, yes?"

"No, I don't have a 'mate' and we're not going in that hunk of junk over there." I snarked. Blood bubbled in my mouth again, and I spat out to the side, away from anyone.

"As my patient, I'll dictate your actions until I see fit to release you."

"No," I balked. "I have ruled up here," I prattled them off rapid fire. "Don't try and make me do anything."

Ratchet lifted his lip. "Ms. Evans, you seemed to be under the impression that I'm going to abide by your rules. Now, get on my servo, or I will place you there in a less gentle manner myself. Your children too."

I sneered. "Touch me, I'll go rabid dog on your hand, buckaroo."

The big black mech stood himself up, limping over to look down at us. "Your not going to get her anywhere without damage to her or yourself if you keep going at it like that." Ironhide scoffed. "Femmes don't like to be told what to do."

I jerked a thumb at him. "Scrapheap's right."

"Shut it, brat. We mean to harm to you or yours." Ratchet snarked back.

Ironhide knelt jerkily down, surveying me with calmer eyes then I would suspect from a weapons junkie. He pointed with his chin to the quivering forms behind my legs. "It might be best to get them to a more enclosed spot. They're terrified out of their processors."

"_Of all of you._" I pointed out.

He tilted his head. "Me? Probably not. Ratchet? Yep. Jazz? I dunno."

"Oh?" I snarled, spitting out another blood glob. "Why not you?"

"Because, I've cared for younglings and sparklings before," he rolled his eyes. "I know how to handle them, and I know my limits. I'm a front-liner and a protector; I used to work in the sparkling sectors in one of my planets cities before the war started."

"Sparkling sectors?" I warily asked.

"A place for orphaned sparklings, babies, to go to when ether they lost their parents, their parents rejected them, or lost custody, to use your human term, over them."

Easing a hand down to gently rub Skyler's hair, I contemplated what he said. "And what did you do there?"

"Care for and raise the sparklings." He rolled his eyes again. "Which, most of whom I cared for, were even more fragile then your soft organic children."

I hummed. "I don't like you," I said. "That's for sure." I jerked a thumb towards the other two. "But your up about three more points in the likable meter then they are, provided your not lying to me."

"I could show you a hologram, but I'd rather not. I'm not flattering in the red color I was before earth."

"Whatever." I said. I got myself standing, Skyler and Hally coming out to cling to my legs. In order to make my walking effort easier, I leaned down and with a pained half grunt half exhale, lifted them up to carry them around my waist. I started off towards the barn with Ironhide plodding along behind me, and the lighter less gimping steps of the Yellow-green bot following afterwards.

"You see, Ratchet? Your bedside manner lacks majorly. Instead of talking down a protective and almost rampaging femme, you drive her closer." Ironhide tsked. "For shame, Doc bot, for shame."


	12. If It Hurts

(_**I apologize for the wait, guys. But, unfortunately, work and farm life comes before fanfiction. Right now, this chapter is short because I have blisters in almost every available crevice in my hands, fingers included. My grandpa, my Ma', and I loaded, unloaded, stacked, and had to restack five tons of hay. We did all of that in a little under five and a half hours, and worked through the hottest part of the day.**_

_**To say I am tired is an understatement. I don't use gloves; but now I'm reconsidering the idea.**_

_**Anyways, here's the vote count. BTW: there are some votes for the twins that I am not counting, because honestly what's the chance of 8 guests, not counting DemonMamoru since I've talked to this reader on DA, that 4 of them are called Guest and the rest are several more not really convincing names. I don't want to sound… cruel, but honestly, if you think on it, what ARE the chances of EIGHT reviews for the twins without a single one for anyone else and all of them being someone who wasn't a FF.N member.**_

_**Twins: 9**_

_**Jazz: 9**_

_**Toaster: 1**_

_**Prowl: 1**_

_**Mirage/dino: 1**_

_**REMEMBER, VOTING CLOSES AT THE POSTING OF THE NEXT CHAPTER.**_

_**Enjoy the chapter~**_)

I sat straight as one of Lennox's cronies tightened my bandages around my ribs. The broken ones and fractured one ached badly, but not too horribly, as I was familiar with the pain. The bruises that were setting in, however, hurt like a dickens. They welted, and were currently a very nice shade of vomit green-blue with hints of pus yellow and tints of purple weaved about. The worst of it disappeared under my bra, and then reappeared out the bottom and wound around my ribs and hips. The lighter bruises were over my shoulder. Talk about one heck of a bruise. I tightened my fingers around the Jimmy's tailgate as I sat sidesaddle on it so that the soldier could tend my wounds. It hurt, a lot.

Gazing coolly out, I watched the rest of the soldiers, Lennox included, toting out stuff from my storage room slash sometimes office. Half the room was empty, but it was also taking up a lot of space in my attic area above the barn. It was funny, though, watching the tough soldier boys struggle to get the boxes to the top of the ladder without dropping it. They had already dropped a box that held my various corroborators that needed fixing in order for me to use them later. Lennox promised me that they would replace them. For every one broken, there would be another that would be shiny and new. My mechanic's side giggled like a girl at the prospect of shiny new toys to work with. Ratchet, though, had stepped un and started lifting soldiers and boxes alike up and down the ladder, claiming he did not want any of them throwing out their lower backs and lumbar. It ruined my fun and the possibility of new tools, but I guess I can't stop him.

Skyler and Hally were nestled along my side, and against the far wall, observing us and keeping an eye on the twins and myself, was Ironhide. The twins shied away from him as well as the others, and in turn, he gave them enough space as so not to pressure them or aggravate me. I had told him that if he bothered them too much, broken ribs and damage to him or not, I would take my crowbar and remove his windows. He took my warning to heart, and kept his distance.

The twins, who it turned out actually transformed into super nice models of Lamborghini's, were attempting to repair the demolished land and to clean up the energon, apparently their blood, spills that came from Rumble. The yellow robot dude, Sunstreaker, had been _enthused_ about clean up duty. The red one, Sideswipe, really didn't care less, so long as none of us fleshlings were smudging their paint or ruining their interiors and finishes.

Jazz loomed not too much farther away. His smaller height was useful for clearing out the debris from my house. Instead of the soldiers removing my stuff, jazz just removed the walls to get to it. He left the bathroom alone for the most part, but tore up the twin's room, which had been mine when I was a kid, and had torn up my living room. The kitchen was spared his wrath as well, along with what remained of the hallway with the washer and drier. I had been flabbergasted; he finished the job the Decepticon had started. In his defense, so he had defended, the house was being replaced with a newer model, along with any broken things inside.

My dresser was taken, along with handfuls of my clothes from my closet, and my bed frame. The frame was fine for the most part, only a few scratches in the ancient redwood. The mattress was a mess of fluff and springs, so the twin's mattresses were laid out in the frame to act as the mattress. The top blanket and the thick comforter were spared on my bed, having been pulled off in the twin's mad scramble to get away.

Regardless, outside the barn door was a pile of neatly stacked furniture just waiting to be hauled into the room. The couches were going to be left out in the area where my office was, and then all of my office stuff had been tucked away. The phone was still there, as was the computer, but Ratchet had stolen the desk and replaced it with my kitchen table and a nice plush chair from which the origins were unknown. I suspect that Ratchet carried it around. My recliner was going to be set up next to the TV, which was plugged into an outlet with the N64 and the accompanying games sitting along with it.

I sucked in a sharp breath. "Ouch." I said. "That hurts."

"Sorry, Ms. Evans." The man said, sounding more or less closer to my age then say, thirty or forty. "Doc' had said to get them tight, so I did." He gently patted my shoulder. "There, I'm done. Besides, if it hurts, your still alive, right?"

"Right." I sighed softly. "Thanks." I said tiredly. He nodded and waked off to snag a box and go wait in line for a lift up to the top.

"Go lay down," Ratchet groused at me, lifting Lennox up to the top, though he had to stretch on his tiptoes to lay his hand flat for easier boarding and exiting for the humans. "Your systems need to rest. Tonight you meet the rest of us; they'll be here by eleven or so and you need to be prepared."

I shot a look at him through the tinted back hatch glass of the Jimmy, but was ignored in favor of making sure that Lennox didn't lose his balance and go tumbling backwards out of the loft with a box of tubes and bolts. I sighed and shifted forwards gingerly, pressing my uninjured foot down first and the hobbling forwards with my walking boot. Skyler and Hally scrambled to follow me, slipping down and hovering around my legs as I walked.

I hobbled outside, to where Jazz had flopped all of my shirts, and snagged a blue tank top from the top. Tugging it over my head, it covered my bra and my bandages. Shifting my legs, I sighed. Skyler reached up and took my hand, tugging my pinky slightly. "Torrie?" She whispered nervously.

I glanced down at her. "Yes?"

"We're hungry…"

I smiled softly. Of course; the little things had had tons of excitement of the bad kind today. It was late enough in the evening now for me to do dinner. "Alright. Anything you want for dinner?"

"No…"

I sighed. "Alright. Lets just raid the fridge for now, alright?"

Hally nodded in place of her sister. "Okay. Tell the soldiers we're gonna go, so they don't have a p… p… picnic attack."

I gently ruffled her hair. "Its called a panic attack, sweet heart, not a picnic attack." Wordlessly after that, though, I approached Lennox, who had just gotten down from the loft via my unwanted elevator. "Lennox?"

He looked at me warily, keeping himself at an angle slightly. His shoulders slumped, probably to look less like a threat. Lennox cleared his throat slightly. "Ah, yes, Ms. Evans. What can I do for you?"

"Nothing really." I answered softly. "I was just letting you know that the girls are hungry, so I'll be raiding the kitchen with them…" Manners made me spout off the next phrase I said. "Would you or your men like anything?"

Lennox tilted his head contemplatively. "Like what, Ma'am?"

I rubbed my arm softly, shuffling out of another soldier's way. The girls clung to my legs, making it difficult. "Well, I have home made iced tea, and I have some sodas…"

He glanced at the guys, who had stripped off their vests and protective armor under the heat. Lennox has as well, but it was pretty warm out. "Ms. Evans, I think a couple glasses of Iced tea sounds delicious."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll bring them out in a bit."

"Sounds good, Ma'am." He said. Then Lennox paused slightly, and ran a hand across his stubble. "Do you think its possible for us to pitch a tent out in your fields for us to stay here for a bit?"

I furrowed my brows. "Yes, its possible. The question is, will I permit it? Give me a good reason."

Lennox sighed. "Ms. Evans, you are in no condition to be working, and some of the stuff that needs done isn't within easy reach of the Autobots. We'd be cleaning up, removing debris, and pretty much assisting you for a bit until we receive our orders to go back to our temporary base."

"And your current orders?"

He held up a hand in a fist, and then held up his index finger. "First and foremost, find and assist Torrie Evans. Second," another finger went up, "deal with the Decepticon. Third," another finger, "Take note of needed repairs. Fourth," yet again, another finger up, "Assist Torrie in cleaning up and debris disposal before the new house gets here. Fifth order; remain at the property as assistance to Torrie and the Autobots and backup until further orders. There were a few more, as well, but they don't concern you."

I nodded. "I guess. You guys have a tent?"

"Nope." He said. "We'll be roughing it out side."

I sighed. "No, no. The coyote's would bother you. Probably even bite you while you all tried to sleep." I hummed. "In the shed behind the barn is my tent and camping equipment. It's in need of being used. The tent is a big ten-man family cabin tent. It'll have some closet space, and plenty of space for the four of you. There might even be a couple blow up mattresses. I know there's a mass amount of sleeping bags for you, and some chairs and little fold out tables."

He rubbed the back of his dirty blond hair. "Coyote problems?"

"Sometimes." I said. "But go to the shed. It'll all be there."

He nodded. "We'll just need to get provisions from one of the towns."

I shook my head. "No. If you're going to stay up here and do my job of cleaning up this mess, the least I can do is cook for the lot of you… Though I need to restock my freezer soon." I mused to myself. He went to say something, but I shook my head and turned, hobbling away with the girls. I went to the house, and they helped me up the steps. My living room was demolished, but the kitchen was fine. The girls took seats on the floor, curled together as they watched me. I pulled out hamburgers for dinner. I had plenty of hamburger meat. Steak too; sometimes people traded meat for their cars to be fixed. I was flexible like that. Grilling them up in a frying pan, I dribbled Worcestershire sauce over the patties. The buns were under the cupboards, so I had Hally fetch them for me.

Cooking up six patties was quick to do, with my large frying pan, and soon I had them done. Setting the steaming patties onto a plate, I tiredly set them on the counter. When you have kids and you don't have anyone else to take your place, it doesn't matter if you're sick or if you feel like crap. You still have to feed them. Its like a job that you cant ever take sick days from. I sighed, and went to the fridge. Fetching out the ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise, I placed the trio of condiments onto the counter before I went and got the pickles.

I had to slice them, and so I did after washing my hands again. I had some onion slices and some tomato slices, the girls apparently liking one or the other, so I tossed them on separate plates. Turning to them, I had them give me what they wanted on their burgers, which consisted of Mayo, Ketchup, Mustard, and pickles. They didn't want onions and tomatoes today. I gave them their plates, but they sat there, watching me instead of eating.

"Eat, girls." I said softly. "We'll go get some rest afterwards."

"Aren't you going to eat, Torrie?" Hally asked as she obediently picked up her burger and took a bite.

I shook my head. I got them both glasses of tea, and then poured one for me, and then four more for the soldiers working outside. "No, kiddo's, I'm not hungry."

Skyler audibly swallowed and took a drink and then made a small 'ah' sound. "Okay…"

"I'm going to bring the soldiers in here so they can get their meals, okay?" I hobbled outside, and then took the walk to the barn without waiting for an answer. When I got there, the soldiers were in the midst of trying to finagle my bed frame into the room. They had it tilted on its side, but it was too tall to fit through the door. The headboard was off and leaning on the wall with the mattresses. The Autobots were nowhere in sight, much to my pleasure.

Lennox spotted me. "Ms. Evans! Is there any way that we can take the frame apart and put it back together in there?"

I nodded and hobbled forwards. "Yeah." When I got closer, I made out the small brown plugs that covered the bolts that held it together. Popping out one of the plugs, I pointed inside. "Here." I said. Limping over to one of my toolboxes, I got a screwdriver, the flat tip one, and then walked back to them. "Use this. Just be careful with it." I paused. "But it can wait a bit. I have dinner done, if you'll come with me."

Lennox nodded. "Thank you." He tilted the frame down with another of the men, who was rather quiet and I hadn't heard him say a word. Stretching his back, Lennox passed me a tentative smile. "We're ready, Ma'am."

"Enough of the Ma'am stuff." I sighed. Turning around with the men following, I wobbled back to the house, and hopped up the stairs. Pushing open the front door, I lead them to the kitchen. "Here," I motioned to the burgers. "Eat up. There's condiments here," I pointed to the counter, "and your tea is by the stove."

Snagging my glass, I walked outside to sit on my porch swing. The girls went with me, having scarfed their burgers down, and settled on my right, cuddled together like usual. They stayed silent, and only barely flinched when the soldiers came outside, jeering each other good-naturedly about their tastes in condiments. They took a seat in the shade on the stairs, with Lennox at the top.

Lennox took a bite of his burger and smiled after he swallowed. "This is really good, thanks Ms. Evans. You really didn't need to cook for us though. You've had a long day; we would have made due until you had rested good and well."

"No problem, Lennox. Please," I took a small drink of my tea. "If I didn't feed you, you would have probably died of dehydration in this sweltering heat. Besides, if you died, then I'd be putting my storage room in order and making it a bedroom all by myself." I said. "Gotta reward free labor, my Grandpa always says. Feed 'em, and that'll work just fine."

He laughed. "True, true." He snapped his fingers. "Ah, you know my name, but you don't know my men's names." He flicked the only redhead on the back of the head, as he was sitting on the step below him. "This is Bobby Cook.' He nudged a toe out to a taller brunet. "James Call."

"Call?"

He shook his head. James had his mouth full of burger, and didn't bother to correct me. "No," Lennox said, "C. A. U. L. Caul."

"Ah."

"Anyways, the other brunet here is Eric Scruffs." He chuckled and motioned to Eric's hair. "We call him Scruffy."

Eric flipped him the finger as he drank some tea. When he finished, he motioned to the other too. "That's okay. James is called Scooby. Bobby is Boobie." He snickered. "My name is less embarrassing."

I arched a brow. Chatty fellows. "Oh?" I asked tiredly, drinking my tea again.

"Yep." Eric continued. "Bobby here got his name when he first met Lennox here. He said, and I quite, 'Hello Sir, Private Boobie, eh, Bobby, reporting for duty." He chuckled. "James got his from basic. He came into the barracks from the showers while wearing Scooby Doo underpants."

Bobby groaned. "Yeah, and you just open your mouth and blab out all of our secrets, don't you?"

"Never denied I didn't." Eric shrugged, shoving his burger in his mouth. "Besides, we're the three amigos, I don't really think the 'don't blab unless your fab' rule applies to us."

I sipped my tea and leaned my head back. I wanted to sleep…

(_**And I'm cutting it here. :P I'll get into the Autobots next chapter. This is filler, pretty much, to let you know that I still live!**_)


	13. The Only Thing Worse

(_**Well, the voting has come to a close. Truthfully, I'm not too sure on the exact results, but I can tell you one thing for sure. If you take a look at the reviews, then you'll see that there is a hell of a lot of votes for the twins, as well as Jazz, but ultimately, it seems the twin's sexy harem jutsu {Naruto fans will know what I mean} won in the end.**_

_**Truth be told, I am kind of glad… I can stretch this story to its full potential. Besides; Jazz is just a temporary guardian. Prime will appoint one, of my choosing though suggestions are welcome, and then the story will go on. Perhaps, though, I can do an alternate universe where Torrie goes with Jazz. We'll see.**_

_**Besides! Jazz has his Prowler! Since I am a supporter of Jazz/Prowl, though not comfortable writing out mech/mech just yet.**_

_**Don't worry though; I'll try and keep Jazz as a major character; though there will be times he wont be in use.**_

_**Anyways, there are the RESULTS. Hope you're not too angry, but I am prepared to hide behind the curtains with my swords and big leg mauling kitties for protection. Be warned; we have guard cats as well as dogs… or at least our Siamese is a guard cat, no matter how much of a chicken the terrier sized cat is.**_

Enjoy 13. Its short, god I know, but I've been tired and the muse for this chapter died, though the next is alive and trying to kick free of my mind, and my sciatica is acting up again. You know, the thing that left me on crutches and a cane for most of my sophomore year? Yep its saying hello again. Several times I've been reduced to a wibbling mass of pain in the last few days. It sucks. Really it does. In fact, as I'm sitting here writing, I'm practically writhing. The Advil isn't helping.

_**TRIVIA: did you know that Mirage/Dino's voice actor for DOTM died shortly after the film was released?**_

_**Enough of my inane babbling. Enjoy chapter 13~**_)

I sat on the edge of the tree line that leads out to my field. Under my rump was a large tree stump. Cuddled into my leg was Skyler, sleeping pretty soundly. Hally was over with Lennox, roasting some marshmallows on some tree twigs, though she was falling asleep while doing so. The other three, Bobby, Eric, and James, were all unsuccessfully trying to pitch the tent I had let them use. From the looks of it, they had the poles in the wrong spots. Was I going to tell them? No. Jazz was parked beneath one of the Douglas firs, though he was lounging in his robot mode. He had been distant from me since he got back and had to kill Rumble. Oh well. Good for me. Ratchet hovered near by, though he was keeping a keen eye on the parade of lights I could see as distinct shadows from the small visible space of the road from below the line of trees. Ironhide sat not too far to my right. He had flopped there, and I hadn't bothered to move. Neither had he; so I dealt with him since this was the only stump that was far from the others. That, and it hurt to move too much. The yellow and red robots were standing at the edge of field doing something. Polishing or buffing or something akin to that, from the motions of their hands.

In my hand was a jug of tea, one that I had been sipping on for the past several hours. I wasn't hungry; the thought of food made my stomach threaten to revolt and turn itself inside out. A small current of electricity ran from my hand through the jug, and then back through my knee, where the jug rested. Instead of hurting, though I was pretty numb on some Vicodin at this point, it felt like a small surge of warm. It befuddled my mind, but I thought not much of it.

Tiredly, I kept my eyes fixed on the line of lights as they turned onto my driveway. They left the bidden path, weaving through the trees with a careful precision that I almost envied. I just hope they don't mess up my grass. When it comes time to harvest at the end of next month, I don't want any of the crops to be damaged. That's needed funds sent down the drain. Letting my hand without the tea jug drop down, I brushed back a stray lock of Skyler's blond hair from her forehead.

"You love them a lot, don't you." It wasn't a question, though the gruff voice from my right brought my eyes briefly towards him. His eyes glowed eerily in the dark, illuminating his face while the black paint of his body blended in well with the backdrop of the eleven o'clock night sky.

I sighed. "What could have _possibly_ have given you that idea?" I asked in a sardonic sarcasm that sounded as dry as the Sahara desert.

"Somewhere in between the near constant threats against us if we come too close and the fact that you are as soft as a porcupine with us and something akin to a fluffy protective chinchilla with them, I do believe I picked up that preposterous idea." I watched him roll his eyes at me before looking back at the approaching line of vehicles.

"Good. Perhaps you'll remain less on my shit list then the rest of them are at the moment." I said.

There was a throaty chuckle. "I don't think it matters with you. You are as fickle as a cat; angry and hissing one moment, and then soft and cuddly the next. You might scratch the one you love, but then shower them with affection and apologies the next. Yes, you are like the cat." He summarized. "An enigma to all but yourself."

I angled towards him carefully, my ribs aching. "I'll show you cuddly, you hunk of scrap metal." I grumbled. "Cats my ass. They don't like to get dirty."

"They also land on their feet." He added. "Which you don't seem to do."

"I wish I could melt you down and turn you into a chair. Perhaps then you'd be more useful, though still just as annoying and ugly." I grunted. "Quiet too. No more back-sass."

"Been called worse, femme. Try a little harder. Then it might just tickle."

"Oh," I chuckled darkly, dryly. "If you were worth my time, then I would."

"Hmm… Better. But not quite there."

"Your losing points on my likable list." I said shortly.

Ironhide held up his hands. "I know. But, a little button pushing makes things interesting."

"I can push a few of your buttons with my drill bit, if you'd like." I offered.

"No thank you." He said. He sighed. "I know when not to bother a femme," he propped a hand on his chin and propped the elbow on his knee, a wholly human gesture that looked alien on the alien in front of me. "I'm just used to pushing Chromia's buttons. I apologize."

"I don't want your apology," I murmured, "but you did regain your lost points."

"Bully for me." He clicked something after it. Ironhide took that moment to fall silent, just sitting and watching the soldiers and approaching vehicles.

I yawned and let my head rest in my palm, though I didn't slouch. Slouching hurt too badly. I turned to look back at the vehicles approaching, and noticed they were almost here. In the short time I had spoke to Ironhide, the soldiers had finally figured out what they were doing wrong and had corrected themselves. Hally had fallen asleep leaning on one of the fallen logs they had rolled around the fire, though Lennox had given her his jacket for a pillow. Hally really had warmed up to the soldiers for such a short time. Or at least she did when the Autobots weren't addressing them. She scurried away when any of them approached. Truthfully, she was just curious because they were pretty funny, and they were people other then myself.

I blew out a puff of air. A piece of the white part of my hair fell down in front of my face, and then it fluffed up as I exhaled. "What did you do to get the white streak?" Ironhide rumbled.

I tilted my head to look at him. "Got struck by lightning."

"The thing under the bandage on your forehead from that too?"

"Pretty nosy, aren't you?" I said. "I'll humor you. Yes and no."

"And that means?"

"None of your business, buckaroo." I said. Then I sighed. "I'm going to go put the girls to bed before your little friends wake them and send them into a fit."

"Do you want assistance?" he asked.

I angled a tired look his way. "If I wanted it, I would ask."

He held up his hands. "Fair enough. But if I'm offering?"

"Keep it for someone who needs it." I responded. Without ever leaning sideways onto my ribs, I managed to gather Skyler into my arms. She wrapped herself around me, her sleepy state not realizing, as most children don't when not conscious, that it hurt how she had her legs and arms wrapped around me. I sucked in another breath, and then worked at getting up.

A large finger curled under me, and gently half nudged me and half lifted me to my feet. I looked over as I stood on my own, most of my weight off of my walking boot. He blinked. "You never said anything about just doing it."

Arching a brown brow, I blinked at him. "That I didn't." Turning, I trudged towards Lennox. "Thanks, then."

"Not a problem."

Across the grass I hobbled towards the light. When I reached the campsite, stepping from the shadows into the ring of light, I slipped past Eric, who had jammed a marshmallow in his mouth and walked to Lennox, who was next to Hally. "Can you grab her? I cant really bend down at the moment…"

The dirty blond man nodded. "Sure." He stood, and then stooped, gathering the fiery little redheaded girl into his arms. She let off a soft snore, but didn't wake. "Putting them to bed finally?" Lennox asked as we stepped around the others and then headed for my barn.

I nodded wistfully. "And I'm wishing I could join them."

"You know," he said, "Optimus wouldn't mind if you did introductions in the morning."

"There lies the problem." I responded tartly. "I do. I want to get them over and done, and then just rest for a few days without any Cybertronian pests bothering me."

"With the littler twins, I wish you good luck. They're bound to pester you to high heck and back."

"My arms aren't broken. I can throw things at them." I added. "I can't play baseball to save my life, but I can still throw a crowbar like a pro."

He snorted. "I bet." He used his shoulders to open the door to the barn a bit further, and then strode inside towards my office. We passed the sofa and the chairs, along with the TV. Entering the space that was now our bedroom, Lennox strode to one side of the bed and pulled the covers back. Gently settling Hally down, He scooted her over and then took Skyler from me and tucked her in much the same.

I blinked. "You must have a lot of experience, huh?" I said quietly as we left.

He nodded, guiding me carefully from the barn. "I've been a parent for longer then you have; I'm a pro at bedtime tucking."

Tilting my head, I hummed. "How many kids you got?"

"One for now. Sarah, my wife, though, suspects she might just be pregnant again." He said. "We're hoping for a whole slew of more kids."

I furrowed my brows. "Then by all of my bad luck, I wish you have triplets so you get the slew you want."

He chuckled dryly. "That's too many."

"My grandma had a set of brothers who were triplets." I said. "So its not too many."

He gave me a dry look. "And how many siblings did she have?"

"More then eight." I said. "She was the only girl, too."

"Damn."

…

When we reached the field again, the line of cars had transformed, and were standing in a herd near a stand of my trees. With how they were standing, they reminded me of giant metal cows. All they had to do was moo, and it would be perfect. Jazz was there, Ratchet was over with Ironhide, who had apparently failed to stand up, and the two robots that had been polishing themselves were in line with the big robot as well. Lennox left me at the camp, letting me walk the rest of the way out on my own. It was a long, long walk.

When I approached, the largest robot there turned and gazed down at me. He, obviously male unless it was a very big girl, knelt and came closer to my height. I watched his eyes shutter closed and open, the movement distracting me from the other robots that were turning to look at me with speculative eyes. "Hello Ms. Evans." Holy deep voice! That is defiantly a dude. If the voice hadn't belonged to him, and was a human's voice, I would probably tell them that the voice was sexy. "It is nice to meet the woman who has let us stay here. I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots."

Instead of commenting on his voice, I tilted my head. "I would say it's nice to meet you, but I'm not in the best of moods right now."

Jazz snorted wryly. "Torrie, you are never in a good mood."

"And you're the reason why." I snorted. Blinking back up at the big robot, I sighed. "You know, you could have told me he was big."

Jazz shrugged, the starlight glinting off his armor. "It never came up."

Optimus cleared his throat softly, and I blinked back up at him. "Yes?" I asked.

"Please, allow me to introduce you to my troupes." He said deeply. "Undoubtedly, you know some of them from their brief stay here, and their rescue earlier."

"Of which I am rather pissed about." I snarked slightly. Planting my hands on my hips, I gazed up at him. "Your war is supposed to be over. Yet, before all of you even get here, I have these Decepticons knocking at my windows."

"And dangling from the prongs of your tractor." The red fellow, Sideswipe, from before rolled his eyes. "Rather painful, really."

Optimus gazed at me. "You put yourself in danger?"

I threw my hand sin the air, and then regretted it, jerking them back to my sides to cradle my ribs. "Yes." I grunted. "But I had a reason. Now, off of the subject of my stupid human qualities. Your buddies? You were introducing them. Or do I have to color code you all with spray paint?"

The big one gave a rumble, of amusement or annoyance I wasn't sure. "That is not necessary, Ms. Evans." He said. "As I was saying, these are my troupes. You know Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, and the twins, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe."

I snorted. "Ketchup and Mustard are siblings."

Sunstreaker let out a growl reminiscent of an angry toaster. "Watch your tongue, human, lest we remove it for you."

I snorted again. "Yeah, and let my nasty human blood stain your paint? Your too much of a wuss." I turned my attention back to Prime, the yellow robot seeming to fume at being ignored. It brought me a bit of joy, then. "Continue."

"There is one who is not here with us today, as he is back in Washington DC with his charge, and that would be Bumblebee." Optimus said. His pupils rotated slightly as he looked at me without blinking, and it made my skin crawl with how eerie it was. "The others here include Mudflap and Skids, out other resident set of twin robots."

There were two robots who stepped forwards. One was orange, the other green, and they looked… mutated. I crossed my arms as one hit the other and then the other hit back, and they started to Brawl before being shoved out to roll across my grass. "You know, if they break it, they get to fix it, right?"

"Of course," the large blue and red robot with flames nodded. "We will help you out the best we can."

"I need help with few things, so don't count on me asking." I put out there, so they'd know.

"If she doesn't ask," I heard Ironhide call from across the field, and turned to give him the stink eye, "then just do it anyways."

I curled my lip, but turned and ignored him. Optimus hummed. "Alright… Up next, we have Arcee, a femme." a pink robot rolled forwards before her single leg transformed down into two spindly feminine appendages. "Her sisters are Chromia," a light blue one rolled forwards, rolling rather obscenely large cannons on her arms. They weren't much taller then me when they walked on two legs rather then an extended singular one. "And Elita-one, the commander of the femme forces, and my partner in leadership."

I blinked. Partner… Alright. Wife then, I'd wager. The one identified as Elita-One, a purple female that was larger then the other two, knelt slightly and looked sagely at me. "Hello, Ms. Evans." Holy deep feminine voice! What did she do? Swallow Cher? I mean, mine wasn't quite as high pitched as most girls, though I could make it sound like it, but it certainly didn't sound like that.

"Uh… Hello I guess."

The other two were quite as bad in tones, but Arcee kinda struck me as the loner type. Perfect for my tastes; she'd leave me alone. Chromia, on the other hand, held out a large metal hand to shake my hand. "I am aware that this is an earth custom to shake hands when you first meet another." She said.

I didn't take the hand, but instead flexed mine. "I'd rather not. I have a bit of a static cling going on."

The robot tilted her blue colored head. "Perhaps you should get rid of it then."

"Cant. It keeps coming back." I shrugged. "Sorry." I wasn't sorry.

She kept a firm look on my face. "Regardless, I would like to shake your hand, Ms. Evans."

My eyes hooded themselves as I regarded her tightly. "And I'd rather not get the shocking of a lifetime, 'cause if you haven't noticed, your one giant conductor."

"I'd give up," Jazz chimed. "She wont do it anyways."

I moved my hand to take hers. "Just to spite you, junkyard scrap, I'll shake her hand." I took it, and the current bolted from me out to her and then back. I shuddered, and then my hair spiked out like I had stuck my hand in an electrical socket. Letting go after shaking her hand, I smoothed my hair down carefully, so I didn't tug my ribs. Look from the satisfied blue robot as she stood up, I regarded Prime. "Anyone else?"

Sideswipe chuckled. "She got you good, Jazz. Really cut you down to size, eh? Oh? No? That's your normal size? My bad!"

"Shut up, Ketchup." I said.

"Yeah, _Ketchup_, do shut up if you will." Jazz gazed coolly at him.

"Quiet now," Optimus rumbled. "That is enough. We are all tired here, and after a good recharge, we will feel better and lose our sour moods. Now, before that, we have to get through introductions and basics without any brawls." No one made a sound, so I assumed they agreed. "Alright. Now, after the sisters, we have Mirage, our specialist in sneaking."

(_**Spell check just crapped out. Sorry for any mistakes.**_)

Another red robot walked forwards, though this one was shorter then Sideswipe. With a rather dramatically graceful flourish, he bowed and spoke. "Greetings, _mia signora_. I am Mirage, as our Prime said before." His voice had a nice Italian ring to it, though he came off a little... posh.

I nodded. "Nice name, Mirage. Warning to you, though, I dont speak Italian."

He filed back in line, and Optimus rattled off the next. "We have Jolt," he motioned to a quiet bot who gave me a shy wave. His armor, from what I could see, was blue. "Then we have Wheeljack. Wheeljack, you can talk with Ms. Evans on a later date." The little colorful head fins on Wheeljack, who was a white color with some burns and stains, lit up in an array of colors, though he didn't say anything. "And last, we have my second in command, Prowl." He motioned to another bot.

This one was monochrome in color. Blacks and whites, and along something that looked like a door behind his shoulder had a police symbol. "Greetings Ms. Evans. Perhaps in the morning after you have rested you can debrief me on the rules you have around your abode so that I can assist in upholding them." His eyes were cold and logical looking. Above them sat this strange 'V' shaped red thing, and it made him look positivly creepy.

I tilted my head slightly. His voice was so... strict. "Alright." I said warily. Maybe i was just tired.

Optimus made a soft noise. "Now, we have one more thing to address."

"Oh?"

"How we came to be on your planet." He said. "You deserve an answer for allowing us to stay." I didn't bother to correct him. I guess he didn't know or something. "It all started long ago on Cybertron. The war was raging, and to protect the All-spark, the cube that brought life to our race, we cast it off. We realized our wrong doing, in leaving it unprotected, and set off to find it and-"

I held up my hands lowly. "Stop, stop." I interrupted. The other bots stared at me like I was nuts. "Look, Optimus, I didn't ask to know your history. Frankly, I don't give a flying shit what it is, or how you got here." One of the little twins, the green one, let his mouth pop open. "If we're done with introductions, then I'd like to go to bed. I don't want to know why you're here, and I never will." I crossed my arms. "Is that all?" That was probably very rude, to them at least. To me, it was my tired speak.

"I suppose so, Ms. Evans." Prime let out an exhale. "Perhaps another time then."

Or not another date, by my preference. "Sure, whatever. Make yourselves comfortable; just don't break anything." I said.

"Alright." He bowed his head briefly and then stood up, making all my six foot six height feel like an ant. "I will see you in the morning, Ms. Evans. We have much to talk about concerning construction and the like."

Oh god… "Alright." I turned around and trudged back to the barn without another word. I could hear the robots shuffling around, and then a set of feet following me. I peeked over my shoulder to see the robot, Chromia, following me nonchalantly across the tall grass. She veered off, though, as I passed Ironhide and Ratchet, though my ears rang with the loud clang that had me turning to see what happened. As it turned out, Chromia had tackled Ironhide, and was currently… Lip-locking him. I shuddered. Gross. The only thing worse then PDA with your parents with giant robot PDA. When I got in the barn and to our shared room, I flopped on the bed, asleep almost before I hit it.


	14. Gorgeous Nightmare

(_**Thanks for the reviews, guys. They make my day~ I'm doing a bit of skipping around, such as skipping Torrie eating and such, but you should still find this acceptable. Anyways, enjoy 14.**_)

I slept through most of July second, cooking breakfast and dinner and small snacks for the kids not really counting as being awake. Neither did going to the bathroom. Throughout it all, I hadn't seen a single Autobot since I first saw them all. Not even Jazz. I was up at six on the third of July, my body having decided that I had slept long enough and that it was now time to wake up. Around six thirty, having washed my hair carefully with the garden hose and dressing myself in my mechanic blues, I was in my kitchen cooking up some pancakes for breakfast while the girls were waking up slowly. I was drinking my morning tea and I had popped a couple Vicodin. Truly, the aches are worse on the day after the second.

My ribs hurt like a bull elk had decided to use me as a speed bump, and the area that the ribs were broken at had turned a yellow-purple color. It bruised. The bruise that ran across my body in a wicked 'X' shape was a disgusting color of purple and green, and was slightly swelled too. Apparently I had a minor concussion, though it didn't make me to into a coma or anything, and that was mostly going away. My tongue was already healing; the skin knitting back together slowly. It hadn't bled in a long time. As for my ankle, I was suffering. I should have used my crutches, but, alas, I can't use them now. It would seem that Rumble, in his attempt to 'hold' my cousins and not harm them, had bent the crutches in half with his little piston things. Now I was stuck hobbling around.

Speaking of hobbling; I finished my tea and the last of the pancakes, and left a large stack in the oven. It was warm in the oven, a cause of using the burners up top, and the pancakes, hot and delicious smelling, were kept warm and toasty. Piling up the extras on a tray, several plates with large stacks on them, I pulled the maple syrup jar from my fridge. I smiled. I loved the maple syrup that I had. It had been a trade from a nice young farmer for me to fix his Kubota; he had crates of homemade maple syrup, and he gave me one. I still have many jars left. It's better then the store bought shit that everyone else gets; that's just too sweet. This is delicious.

The tray piled up with pancakes, teas, extra plates, and maple syrup, I snagged some of my silverware and headed outside. Going down the steps had been hard; trying to balance the food and trying to keep weight off of my ribs, ankle, and bruise had almost sent me face planting. But I got myself down to the ground. Walking out to the little camping spot that they had made up, I found them stretching and flexing their muscles, sweating already. Arching a brow as I neared, I tsked. "Working out, were you?"

Lennox had his mouth full of shoelace as he replaced his bootlaces, so James answered. "Yes, Ma'am. We just finished, actually." He nodded, brunet locks falling in his face. He looked at the tray in my hands. "What'cha got there?"

I quirked my lips in a half grin. "Breakfast." I answered. "Fresh of the griddle with home made ice tea, and non-store bought maple syrup to go with it." I looked at the table they had set out while I was asleep. Around it was chairs and various pieces of paper that were blank. I hobbled toward it, but Bobby, who had abandoned his stretching, beat me to it. He snagged the tray and set it down. He plopped into a chair and grinned up at me.

"Gotta be faster then that, Ms. Evans." He winked at me. His red hair was in disarray, even short, and was amusing to look at. Bobby flashed me white teeth. "Going to eat with us today?"

I shook my head. "Nope. I'm going to go wake my girls, and then we'll eat in the shop."

Eric joined the table next, flopping down and plopping his feet in Bobby's lap. Bobby, of course, squawked and shoved the offending naked toes off of his lap. "Too bad; we'd have made room for the squirts too." He chuckled. "Do you need help getting back?"

I ran a hand carefully over my hair, brushing a strand of white out of my face. "Nope."

James plopped down and looked at the pancakes. You could practically see drool running out of his mouth. "Ma'am, those smell like heaven. Do they taste like it too?"

Tilting my head, I contemplated the answer. "Depends on how your taste buds work. To me, they're good, but not as good as my grandma's used to be."

James grinned and rubbed his hands together. "I'm sure they taste magnificent, Ma'am."

Lennox chuckled behind me, walking around with his boots fixed so he could take the last chair. "James," he said, "you're a hopeless flirt. Now stuff your face and be quiet." He chuckled. He glanced over at me with a slow grin. "Go and get the munchkins some grub, Ms. Evans."

Walking away, I nodded. "Already gone, Lennox." I called back. Waking the kids, assuming they're still asleep, would be interesting.

…

By the time I got the kids fed, myself fed, and more tea brewed, it was nine. I had left the kids reluctantly with the soldiers, but I needed to see if I could get the engine to my Jimmy working. If it would work, assuming that it would even start, then I could get her rolling as soon as I could get around to getting the axel fixed. Perhaps I would recruit one of the soldiers to help me. Before I started on my car, I had to call all planned appointments that I had on cars and cancel them. Most of my clients understood once I explained that I had gotten in a wreck and then some 'hoodlums' had 'vandalized' my house while I was in the hospital, though few were disgruntled. The young man who's tractor I had worked on, the one who gave me the syrup, had offered to come help me out up here. I had to turn him down; I had more then enough folks up here to help me out.

Having turned off my phone to avoid any unpleasant calls, I then went to my Jimmy. Popping up the hood, I took a check again. It looked alright from an outside view, really muddy and some vegetation that I was careful to remove, but one wouldn't know the extent of the damage until the engine was attempted to be turned on. Slipping the remaining door open, I settled in the seat half way, leaving my left leg out and my right leg in. The keys were on the dashboard, so I grabbed them and then inserted them into the ignition. A low buzzing told me that the electrical wiring still worked, as it was telling me that my door was open when it should be closed. I made sure that the gear was set to park, so that the jimmy didn't attempt to roll, and then I inhaled and grasped the keys.

Turning the ignition, I felt the rumble of the jimmy trying to start, sounding like a strangled lion. It tried to catch, and I waited three seconds before letting go, the car falling silent. Pursing my lips, I tried again. The jimmy rattled, rumbled, and the starter tried to catch, but it failed. Giving a slightly frustrated sound, I sighed. Gently patting the dashboard, I decided to give it one more go. Turning the keys, I hear it start again, trying to catch. I waited past three second, counting up to seven, and then the starter finally caught. With a slightly rattley roar, my jimmy started up.

Regardless of how it hurt my ribs, I threw my hands in the air and fist pumped. "Hell yeah! She works!"

Slipping out, I took notice of the twin girls peeking around the door. The jimmy idled on high, and I went around to the front, waving at them. "Shouldn't you be with the soldiers?"

"Yeah." Hally nodded, smiling shyly at me. "But we heard the jimmy trying to start, so…"

"You got nosey?" I supplied.

"Yeah!" she chirped. Her blue eyes blinked at the jimmy. "She's not gonna run good for a while, is she?"

I shook my head. "No. She's a good ol' girl, and until I can get her fully repaired, she'll truck along at a slower pace… once I fix the axel of course."

Hally tilted her head. "I'm gonna pretend I know what dat is."

I chuckled. "I'll tell you later." I popped the hood open, propping it up with my crowbar, the engine shaking in its casing. I peered inside, watching everything turning and working. I pursed my lips. "Everything is in order…" I sighed. "Probably the starter." I leaned back and reached up to let the lid fall down. As I stepped back to go around to turn off the jimmy, the scent of something burning hit my nose. I looked back at the hood right about the time it blew upwards in a shower of warm oil and thick gooey smoke. My ribs ached and throbbed with a burning pain as I jerked my hands over my head. My lungs constricted with the thick smoke, and I heard the flames crackling from my car's engine as it choked and died.

"Torrie!" Hally shrieked, undoubtedly startled. "Torrie! Torrie are you okay?"

I was scrambling for the fire extinguisher under my desk right about the time that I heard heavy steps and booted feet running. Regardless of the burning in my ribs and ankle, I ducked under the desk and felt blindly for my extinguisher. Finding it, I hobbled back into the thick of the cloud, popping the lit and holding down the nozzle. I coughed on the acrid scent of burning oil and scorching paint as I bumped into the jimmy, spraying the fizzing white foam out onto the engine. My eyes watered as the extinguisher foam fizz slowly replaced the smoke.

"Torrie!" I heard Lennox call. "Torrie!" I kept spraying and coughing, and I didn't jerk when a hand grabbed my arm. "Torrie, what happened?" Lennox asked from next to me. "Come on, let's get away from the fire." He tugged me slightly.

I tugged back. I wasn't running from a little engine fire; it hadn't reached the gas tank or the NOS so we were fine. It wasn't the first time it had happened to me. "Not happening." I rasped. The flames died off finally, and I could breathe again, slightly at least, as a breeze picked up and swept the smoke away.

Dripping the extinguisher, I leaned on the side of the car and coughed. Well, there goes my engine. My tea bottle was pressed into my hand, and a damp cloth, wet with tea it smelled like, was pressed to my eyes to help with the smoke burning. I took a drink, and let myself try and breathe. The inhalation wasn't bad enough to bother me for long; just a minor irritation.

When I could see, I peeked open my eyes, probably blood shot by now, and peered at everyone. The Autobots, much to my chagrin, had apparently come running at my cousins' shriek. They were peering at me through the wide open doors, cannon looking things glowing slightly.

Bobby had a hold of my cousins, who were struggling to get to me. The smoke wasn't entirely gone, so I was glad he kept them out there.

I coughed a couple more times and then swallowed. "I'm alright; there must have been an oil leak that caught fire." I looked at the hood, which had fallen back into place with smoke and white foam leaking from the edges of it. "Just an accident." I said nonchalantly.

Jazz, who was closest to Bobby and my cousins, leered at me. "Its always an accident with you, Torrie. Allways."

I cast him a scathing look, though the reflection that glinted back at me faintly showed smoke stains and black where there should have been white in my hair. It kind of ruined the look. "Look," I rasped, "it's not the first time." I swallowed. "Listen, I appreciate you all dashing to my aid," no I didn't, "but honestly, I'm alright."

I saw one of the little rat-looking twins snicker. "She look' li' Jackie when he 'splodes somethin'!" he snickered. "Maybe we 'an call 'er lil' Jackie!"

I coughed and curled my lip. "I'm fine, really." I waved my arms for them to disperse, and then I paused. I frowned. No car meant no going shopping for food and much needed feminine toiletries. "Any chance one of you can give me a ride into town?" the soldier's vehicles weren't parked outside anymore… I hadn't seen then yesterday while I was in my zombie sleep state. "I need to go shopping."

Mirage sighed. "_Splendido incubo_."


	15. Bad Apple

(_**Hey my devoted and loving readers. I know, I haven't been able to get an update out for you. Anyways, by now, my finger is mostly healed. My GPA, however, has been mauled. I'm stressed with my grades that I just can't seem to get back up after being sick, and such things are going to make updates painfully slow. This one is short, definitely, but it's more or less just a way to say 'HELLO, I'M STILL ALIVE AND KICKING FEEBILY HERE!' and all that fun stuff. I'll get to more later, but this is just to let ya'll know I'm still working. Gotta get my muse going again.**_

_**Thanks, all of you, for sticking with me even during the long wait. Anyways, enjoy chapter 15. The real 15 anyways~**_)

I sighed softly as I sat in the cab of the large and rather well crafted peter built truck, the flame covered hood jutting out before the window. In the back of the cab, checking in with his superior was Lennox. I huffed softly, crossing my arms gingerly over my ribs and bruises, running my tongue across my teeth, feeling the slowly healing split in the flesh flexing slightly as I moved the organ. My nose wrinkled at the road, smelling the stench of a skunk as the robot that was the rather large and unorthodoxly sized truck dodged around the recently fresh road-kill. It wafted up right the vents, apparently not bothering Lennox much since he wasn't getting the brunt of the fresh odor, but I lifted my hands to cover my nose as it burned at my nostrils and made my already bloodshot eyes water.

Since my little explosion with the engine earlier today, I had gotten cleaned up, checked (rather thoroughly) for burns and other abrasions, and now was on my merry way to town. Well, all right. I wasn't too keen on riding with the Autobot leader, but the others said I needed foodstuffs, and other things that would take up most of the space, so something with lots of space would be best to take. Thus, with Ironhide apparently out of commission, I was stuck with Prime, who was for the most part silent.

"My apologies for being unable to fully dodge that decaying animal. If it makes you feel any better, the stench bothers me just as well as it does you." Prime commented softly. The wheel spun slightly as he turned into a different road, having slowed down at the intersection. "My olfactory senses are very sensitive; thus offending scents can be thrice more powerful towards me and my kind, verses yours."

I grunted irritably. "Yeah, well, at least you can switch your nose on and off, robot. Mine doesn't conveniently come with an on and off switch, wise guy."

Prime sighed. "Yes, yes, of course." He was silent until the stench finally rolled away, leaving behind the blissful scent of oil, car, and machinery. "You know, I've observed how you have a predisposition for being discourteous with my comrades. I understand you don't think much of our kind, but must you be so blatantly affronting?"

I blinked for a moment before my brain even comprehended the words he had spouted out. "I'm rude?" I said. "Says the robot who works for the government, which takes any instance it can to heckle me and make my life that much worse. By far, out of _anything_, I regret not being gutsy enough to take my kids and flee to some far off country so I didn't have to deal with being so rudely forces to take in blasphemous old robots spouting complete nonsense at me. Given the fact that your war cost my cousins their parents, Prime, yes, I can be as 'affronting' as I damn well please."

Prime heaved a sigh. "You are a very sour person, Ms. Evans, when you are fully awake. Perhaps if you got to know us a little better without making assumptions that we're all mindless things out to ruin your life, then you might not be so bitter."

I huffed at him, wincing as it tugged my ribs. "I have no reason to remotely like your kind."

"True that is, but you can learn to accept us." Prime offered. "Just because a few of us are bad apples, doesn't mean that the whole bag is spoiled. You did decide to leave your little ones with us, after all."

I snorted. "Nine out of ten with me, yes is does. Regardless, I don't really care what you say to me, its not going to make me like you any better. For the record, asshole, I left my kids with the soldiers, not you're kind."

"I'm going to make an observing assumption." Prime sighed. "I think the real reason you don't like us, is because you cant control what happens. If one of us did decide that we'd rather kill you and yours rather then defend you, you would be helpless to fight back."

I scowled at him. "I am hardly helpless, scrap heap. Watch your mouth, or I'll figure out how to weld it shut."

"Threats don't work when you can hardly move fast enough to catch your little ones, let alone a fully mobile Cybertronian." Lennox offered from the back.

"I don't need any words from the peanut gallery," I barked in irritation.

Prime made another turn around a corner, tightening the seatbelts just slightly when I slid slightly over his seats. He made a few clicking sounds. "As I was saying with my observations and assumptions; something inside of you feels vulnerable, weak, and you don't like it. Feeling unable to defend yourself, let alone your cousins, it makes you affronting, as if you can keep us at bay with insults and words alone. Keep in mind now, his is just an assumption of your real reason, whatever it may be. You feel uncomfortable, fearful, of us, because of this instinctual desire to be able to remove threats from your cousins, and as we are much more in mass then you are, thus rendering you unable to resist anything more then a feeble struggle should we decide to do something bad." He gave a soft chuckle, dry, witty. "But don't worry, Ms. Evans. We're not the Decepticons. We like humans a lot."

I puckered my brows at him, considering what to say with his little monologue of words. I couldn't come up with anything witty, as we crossed the bridge into town, the ride having been fairly short. So instead, I simply asked the dumbest question, though still good all the same. "Why should I believe you wont just suddenly start rampaging and killing everything?"

"Because, Ms. Evans, we simply do not want to. I could hang you off the edge of the bridge with my seat belts. But am I? No. I simply do not want to do it."


	16. The Unknown

(_**And I feel horrible. I say I'll update, and what do I do? I don't. Bah. Well, it is my fault; but also not. With my whole stint being unable to write, the ideas in my head curdled and died; withering to nothing. So, in essence, I don't remember what I was doing with this fic. If I could scream a set of explicit words right now, you can bet ten trillion toe nail clippings that I would be. Anyways, enjoy. I'll try and keep updating, but if I cant get back into the groove, I might end up scrapping this story… But I'll give it time. Bear with me, folks; it's going to be bumpy.**_ _**I did, in fact skip a bit :P I don't wana deal with the store visit so… we'll do something else instead. Mind you, the chapters are still going to be short. I do short chapters best :P**_

_**I didn't do the fireworks scene because, well… I haven't seen fireworks in a few years, and I'm not good as describing flashy, pretty lights that bring smiles to thousands of children every year. Enjoy~**_)

The next day, after I managed to purchase the necessities that I needed from the store, I found myself pretty much tied to a lawn chair as I sat out in the field. It was about eleven when they started work, and ended at roughly nine at night. Once the soldiers found out I had fireworks, and a mass amount of them, they cornered me and demanded that we set them off in the field for everyone to watch. Now, was I allowed to help them in their work? No. They did make use of the Autobots though; the red one, Sideswipe, was recruited to mow the field and water it. His swords in his arms, plus his uncanny ability to bend and twist in ways that made my injured body ache just watching him, allowed him to mow my field to just a few sparse centimeters of grass. His brother, Sunstreaker, was ordered to clean up the grass and set it out of the way in neat lines so it could dry for baling. Oh boy, it made my day just seeing the look in the yellow robot's face; I loved it.

To reiterate most of the happenings that went on through out the day before we started fireworks, it was pretty simple. Jazz kept me company, mostly, and so did the gimped up robot, Ironhide. They proved to be vastly annoying, especially when Jazz took an extra effort to keep me in my chair. I was gimpy today, sore and tired from my injuries, and thus, not in the best of moods. Despite my snaps at both of them, and Ratchet when he came to check on Ironhide, and me, they relaxed with me and enjoyed the surplus of sunlight. Somehow, I managed not to get cooked while being between two very reflective metal machines, and the both of them streamed cool air down onto me, even if the shade provided was enough to keep me from overheating. Begrudgingly, I let the Autobot medic give me a shot of some sort of pain medication, which, for most of the day, left me about as argument seeking as a songbird.

The twins, my twins, decided that they would spend the day picking flowers for me. Much to my amusement, and worry, one of the female Autobots went with them… Elita-1, if I'm correct. Hally came back bearing a flower crown for me around noon, I think. I let her put it on me, too, so I didn't crush her spirits. Skyler came back with one in her grasp too, but sat with it in her lap next to my chair for some time. Then, while I watched out of the corner of my eye, my little cousin got up and approached Jazz. Tapping his armor, she wordlessly held out the crown. I've never really seen a male, of any kind, accept a flower crown, to be truthful. Jazz took it and looped it gently, oh so gently, over one of his strange helmet shapes and gave her a cheeky grin. Skyler, mission accomplished, skittered shyly back to my side and had Hally ask me to read them a book.

Most of my day, honestly, was spent reading what little children's books I owned, relaxing, drinking tea, and not feeling anything besides my own sluggish thoughts. The sluggish feeling in my head that numbed me of my angry thoughts lasted for most of the day, wearing off around the time that the soldiers dug out the fireworks and set to scouring my property for a lighter to light some sparklers with.

Speaking of sparklers. When it came time to light off some fireworks, after a very well done barbeque kudos of Scooby, the soldiers and the Autobots alike had fun with the sparklers. The Autobots were familiar with fireworks, but apparently had not ever touched or seen a sparkler. Sideswipe decided to try holding one, only to drop it when it let sparks dance all over his fingers. After a minor grassfire, in which my handy dandy fire extinguisher was used to thwart, it was decided that the Autobot twins could watch, but could not participate in the fourth of July fun.

While the soldiers and my little girls ran amok playing with sparklers, I sat back, cuddled under a blanket with my leg propped up, and sipped my cold tea. Dressed in a flannel shirt with the top two buttons undone, I was sufficiently warm, and cool enough on the summers night with my rolled up long shorts on my legs. "Despite sharing the evening with a bunch of monster robots, I've had a nice day." I said to myself. "No harming myself, no exploding engines, no evil robots… just a good barbeque, and some rest and relaxation… Some morals I have." I mused. "So much for being the busy body."

From my left, Ironhide let off a content rumbling noise. "You don't have to be on the move all the time. Relaxation is a part of life, even in war."

I rolled my eyes and sipped my tea. "Yes, but your lives span millions of years. I'll live to be sixty, maybe seventy years old. Essentially, I'm already one third done with my life. Why would I relax when I can be up and doing things that are actually beneficial?"

Ironhide let off a choking chuckle. "So you don't wear down your parts and fall into a pile of scrap?"

I canted my head, considering it half numbly. "Eh good reasons for you; but I wont rot away until I'm dead and the worms are feasting on my corpse."

Jazz let his presence be known from my right. "Worms wouldn't eat you; they'd get sick." He snorted.

"Same for you, robot." I quipped back. I sighed and closed my eyes, settling back against the chair.

"Tired?" The solstice changer asked.

Half yawning, I stretched, careful of my ribs and various bruises. "Lazy feeling, somewhat sore, so yes, tired."

Jazz let off some strange whirr. "Perhaps you should retire for the night."

"And miss fireworks? Not a chance. It would take an emergency for me to miss the fireworks." I blurted softly.

Ironhide clicked to my left again. "They're starting soon. Do you think these will be smaller then the ones in Washington DC?"

Jazz tilted his head, the whirring of well-oiled machinery tickling the insides of my ears. "I don't really know. Torrie?"

"That was the simplest question ever." I quipped. "Given the fact that there isn't a normal civilian in the US that is authorized to use the fireworks that professionals do, yes, these will be much smaller then DC's fireworks displays." Blowing hair out of my face, I opened my eyes a crack and stared up at the silver man. I arched a brow. "If you want a big firework, I have one from a couple years back we can use."

I heard a crickety deep laughing noise from my left, and Jazz stared at me with a display of puzzlement. "You just said big fireworks, essentially, are illegal… And you have one?"

I tilted my head, the white part of my hair falling into my face. "Yes. I have connections. Connections, that you wont get out of me even if you tortured me." Meaning Tommy Burns. Tommy, along with the illegal racing, has a habit of doing and ordering other illegal things. One of them is fireworks. He likes the boom, so he claims. Tommy is most of my connections… even supplying fireworks that have been in my shed for ten years or more.

Jazz pursed his lips beneath his visor and huffed, using a claw to carefully remove the offending hair from my face. I'd chosen to let it loose today, and it decided to misbehave and go everywhere it shouldn't. "Of course you have connections. Why wouldn't you have connections? Every simple mechanic has connections." He groused to himself, seemingly flustered for some reason. "Which shed?"

"The one on the far left of the barn." I offered… Fireworks weren't something to miss. Even if it meant being nice… Or being on these nice robot drug mixes. They're way better then a vicodin. "They should be in the back, next to the mega squirt gun." Also, another thing Tommy got me… But that was a prize for winning a race three summers back. It was pretty handy too, in shooting down that wasp nest that had been building in the side of my old trailer.

I watched and felt the ground shake as Jazz rolled to his feet with out so much as a grunt, and then went to search for the fireworks. Ironhide, next to me, watched as Jazz shoved his front end into my shed and began to search. "Are they actually in there, Torrie?"

I shrugged. "I'm not the best liar ever. On the norm, I try and avoid lying. Besides, if I lied and then had to show up to my words, what kind of chicken shit would I look like?"

Ironhide hummed loudly. "Good point. Best to be truthful if you're going to blast someone's head off."

"Or hit them with a go-cart." I commented, turning my head to gaze coolly up at him.

"I sense a story behind this one." He leered at me.

"Your old-fart senses are tingling." I rolled my eyes. "Yeah. In my senior year of high school, I hit one of the football team members with a go-cart my Grandpa helped me build. Ruined the cart, and thanks to a handy-dandy mask, I was never identified. I got away scott-free."

He leered at me again. "Why did you hit the human?"

"The football team dude, I think his name was Trevor, but I'm not sure, said that at homecoming, which he stood me up on by the way, he popped my cherry and gave me the ride of my life while I laid there like a dead fish." I rolled my eyes with a decidedly unfeminine snort. "I'm no virgin, but I sure as hell didn't lose it to some steroid ridden jock with no brains and a fry sized wanker."

The big black behemoth contemplated me for a moment, rubbing his chin softly. "You are the most vulgar human female I have ever heard."

I gave a soft, minuscule shrug with a wince. "Comes with being me. If I were some soft sap, I'd be like every little fantasizing creation of people's minds. Me, I have no soft spots."

"You're a bad liar." He admitted stoutly. "Your kin are your soft spot. Even I, as covered in armor and weapons as I am, have a weak spot. Maybe not physically, but mentally, emotionally, you and I both do."

"But also my strength." I added. "If someone messes with my family, I'm not going to take the pacifist way out of things like your Prime would." I snorted a sigh. "If I were one of you, I wouldn't fit in with your faction… or those nasty Decepticons for the matter."

His eyes, optics, focused on me for a time, seeming to assess me. Then, with a titanic whooshing sound, Ironhide sighed at me. "Strengths and weaknesses are one in the same, fleshling. If you were born and raised as one of us, I have the feeling you would be Autobot, despite your blathering about not fitting in."

I sent him a scowl. "What is it about you Autobots poking around and pretty much turning my thoughts upside down and inside out? You poke, and poke, and poke until the wound seeps, and then your there seemingly cutting out the anger, hate, and replacing it with blasphemy that makes sense and makes me rethink my already thought thoughts. This would be multiple times now."

Ironhide shrugged. "Its nature. You make our processors work overtime in order to make sure we don't offend you, least we bring the wrath of our lame host over us."

I puckered my lips. "Your one to talk, Mister gimp. I can move faster then you, stupid metal crip."

"Yeah well, stupid fleshy cripples should learn to be quiet before the big metal crip decides to make you a stupid fleshy crippled goop."

I snorted. "Yeah, I can't see that happening. As much of a hassle as I am for the government, they'd see to your dismantling."

Instead of offending the giant, he simply laughed at me. "They'd try."

With a flurry of silver metal on a short silver robot, Jazz came blustering back holding a rather large Firework in his hands. "Is this it?"

I nodded. "Yep. Go give it to Lennox; he'll know what to do with it." I watched as Jazz went to the team leader and presented him with the hundred and fifty pound firework, and let a disturbingly cruel grin cross my face as Lennox almost dropped it under the sudden weight.

Passing it off to Boobie, Lennox was scuffing his boots towards me with a grim look on his face. "You have an illegal firework." It was a statement, bluntly put.

I rolled my eyes. "Its not like you wont enjoy the display."

"Its illegal." He said.

I cocked a brow at him. "So is harassing me and threatening me unless I do as I am 'asked'. Your government didn't get a slap on the face, did they?"

He frowned at me. "Point taken…"

I rolled my eyes and settled back for the show. "Sit down, shut up, and enjoy the firework, from whence you will never know its origins…. And for that matter, neither will I."


	17. The Secret

(_**Long wait, I know :P I just have such a hard time with this damn drive. I can't get the story juices flowing. If I cant get them started soon, they wont flow for this fic again D: If that happens, I'll have no choice but to scrap the story and go for the one that's currently rattling around in my helm.**_

_**Remember, facts here I just pull out of my ass :P**_

_**Chao, and let me know what you think I should do via review, please.**_)

My head throbbed mercilessly as I stared at my bank account from my office in the barn. The money I had won was gone, drained into getting my Jimmy repaired and getting Nana and Darryl's driveline fixed, along with a cracked rod in the engine. The driveline had been an easy one-two fix; I had enough spares for that part that I hardly had any trouble finding it. The cracked rod had been a problem. The stores I usually found my parts in seemed to be out of almost everything, including the rod replacement itself. Normally this wouldn't be a problem; but Nana informed me that she was going to become a grandma again. Her youngest son at twenty-two, Paul was scheduling his wife for the cesarean for his son. His wife, Nancy, was overdue, and the baby wasn't ready to come, thought Nancy was beginning to have some pains and problems with her health. They had another car, but unfortunately, their little car wouldn't make the tip to Huston as well as their Explorer could.

I know the rush for family quite well. The little ones playing hide and seek just outside the barn were enough proof. So, I put in a rush order from a store in Mill creek, since it was the only one who would seem to do rush order. Despite the fact that the store wasn't from another state, and the shipping wasn't even spendy, they charged me a fortune. Four grand. I didn't balk, I didn't fuss, and I defiantly didn't charge Nana and Darryl extra for it.

But, with the cost of fixing up my car, and the fact I was only just getting back into business thanks to a deal I won with Ratchet involving the nastiest healthy foods in the state, I was running short on funds. August was coming up soon, since it was July twenty fifth. With August, that meant I needed to be ready for school registrations, school clothes, shoes. I would also need my car up and running, so I could provide what I needed to get for my little girls.

Massaging my temples, I leaned back in the back supporting chair and ran a hand back through my hair. My eyes wandered to my new trailer. It was larger then the old one; nicer too. It actually kept cool in the heat, and when it cooled off on some summer nights. It had a large kitchen, and the girls actually had room to play inside. The only one this one was missing was the memories from the old trailer. When a slight breeze blew the white part of my hair into my face, I brushed it back, my hand ghosting over my scar. The skin was puckered and pink. Under the skin, it was hard. In the right shading, usually in the bathroom, someone who was looking for an imperfection would be able to see the dark mark of the strange alien metal melted into my skull.

There was a squawk from Scooby as Booby decided to spray him with the garden hose. Hally cackled with laughter as Scooby tried to turn the tables on Booby, but ultimately failed. Skyler kept herself tucked behind her sister as usual, with Belle tucked into her arm. From how her face was turned, I could see her smiling in amusement at the soldier's antics. My heart warmed to see them happy, even if those hooligans wasting water during the hottest part of the day brought it on.

Officially, Lennox was on duty to 'guard' my family, and me since he was already here, and we had already had a Decepticon sighting and confrontation. I think he counted it as a break, as did his men. But, he still made them get up early and run laps, doing 'general' drills as he as appointed them. Apparently my pancakes were making them lazy in the mornings, and thought he was greatly amused, didn't want his men unprepared.

Hally stopped laughing when she realized there was a new rip in the knee of her jeans. She gave it a disgruntled look and sighed, dusting it off with a distained look that only a six year old could give.

My eyebrows puckered together again and I felt bad. I hadn't gotten them any new clothes, not that I've had time, and all they've had was their city clothes. With how hard they would play outside, it wasn't uncommon for them to come back dirty and well in need of a bath or some Neosporin for a scratch. They needed some clothes from here, that are built to deal with an Oregonian kid's desire to go play and frolic in the mud until it literally coats them head to toe.

First though, I needed money for that. Pressing my palms to my eyes, I gave a highly irritated noise.

"Something frustrating you, femme?" a grinning voice cajoled me.

"For you information, Jazz, yes. Something is frustrating me, and do you know what that is?" I tilted my head back further to see him standing upright in my barn, peering down at me with a brightly lit visor.

His visor seemed to flash, and Jazz clicked. "Lemme'guess. Me?"

I sighed. "For once, no. I have other more prioritized things on my mind right now." My gaze wandered back to the girls playing.

"Is something wrong with the girls?" he asked, the sounds of his gears moving in a well oiled tune as he squatted down filled my ears.

"Not them." I said. "Nothing with them. Anyways, I don't see how this is a concern of yours."

"The little'ns grow on you like mold." He stated. "I care for them, same as I do for you. Now, care to tell your favorite guardian in he world what's wrong?"

I gave him a flat look, my forehead scar tugging. "No."

He sighed. "Alright. Fine." He reached down and turned my chair around so that I was facing him instead of looking at him upside down. "Tell me anyway."

I curled my lip at him. "No. Go away. I'm busy."

"Doing what?" He snapped. "Brooding? Plotting my death?"

"Sure! Why the fuck not! Now go away!" I barked.

Jazz fixed me with a flat look as the yellow twin, Sunstreaker, poked his head in the barn. "Are you two arguing again? Primus. I have a fragging bad headache, and all you two can do is bitch?" As I shot him a nasty look, he gave me one that made the hairs on the back of my neck raise. "What are you looking at, meat-sack?"

I rose out of my chair and snagged my crowbar. "I'm looking at target practice."

Sunstreaker's fins pinned back as he growled at me. "I have no qualms about smashing you flat, fleshling, if you try."

I palmed it and raised it to throw, wincing at my ribs. When I went to toss it, I found my hand conveniently empty. I turned to give Jazz a look as he set the crowbar down well out of immediate hobbling reach. "Why don't you go snag your brother and go bend him over a log and release your stress, Sunflower. I need to have a chat with my charge."

Sunstreaker flipped us the bird and breezed away. "The day I do that, is the day _you_ shove your rod in Megatron's mouth."

Jazz waited until he was well and gone and then looked at me and shut the door to prevent my eminent escape. The silver mech folded his legs criss-cross, and then snatched me up. Setting me on his ankle, gently mind you, he gave me a disproving look. "Mouthing off to one of the bots who doesn't mind flattening you is not wise."

I threw my hands in the air partly. "Fuck off! He wouldn't be in here if you hadn't have come and bugged me! So, in essence, mister 'wise', you caused it! So take any reprimand you have in your brain and shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

Jazz huffed at me with seemingly endless patience. "Whatever. You don't listen anyway; if you get smooshed, I could care less!" Leering at me for a moment, he leaned sideways and looked at the computer. Then he looked at me again, and I realized I hadn't closed down the page with my bank statement on it. "Your having money troubles."

Puffing out my cheeks, I sighed. "And you're a terrible snoop who should go join SunBuns in the woods. I hope you get splinters. All of you."

"Not happening. I wouldn't tap that aft if it was the last one to tap in the entire galaxy." He said. Rolling his shoulders back, Jazz leered at me. "What are you going to do about your money issue?"

I pursed my lips. "Nothing I'm going to tell a government rat about."

He arched a brow. "What is it exactly that your hiding?" He used his finger to make me recline on his leg and rest against his shin. I guess this was a talk I wasn't escaping from.

I scowled at him. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."

Jazz tilted his head as he contemplated me silently. "Somehow I think you are lying. You couldn't lie to save your skin. Now, tell me, is this thing your hiding in anyway related to that big firework, and those hell spawn water weapons you have stored in your shed? Along with all that other shit…"

I clamped my lips shut and shook my head. "No."

He sighed. "Alright. Alright. I'll play it polite. Will you please tell me what it is so I can help you do it?"

I arched a brow. "Uh… Whaaa?"

Jazz's visor seemed to have the light that illuminated it roll, as if he rolled his eyes. "Are you suddenly illiterate?"

I frowned at him. "No, asshole. Now, run that past me again. What did you say?"

"I said," he did the eye roll behind the visor thing again, "please tell me what it is so I can help you do it."

My eyebrow and scar ached from me arching my eyebrow so much, so I settled for furrowing it instead. "And pray tell, why would I do that?"

Suddenly his face split into a grin. "Tell me, or I dig out some blackmail I found in an old box in the shed."

I gave him a bland look. "You realize that I don't give a flying shit if you show anyone those, right? If I did, I would have burnt and melted them down long ago… and I would have fried your circuits and used you for a new shovel."

His mouth puckered. "Damn. You are cold. Tell me anyway, since you don't care if I show these photos of you running down the football field in the buff… while there was a game going on."

I rolled my eyes. "That was also on the news. Thousands of Oregonians saw me running with a great big censor bar covering my breasts and other lady bits." I tsked and shook my head. "You made a fool out of yourself."

The corner of his mouth twitched and Jazz chuckled. "Alright. Fine. Tell me now, please? I've made a fool of myself."

I frowned. "Somehow I don't think I trust you. Your loyal to the Prime, and the Prime is loyal to the government, who would fry my ass faster then an egg on the sidewalk in an Arizona heat wave."

Jazz threw his hands up and made some sort of frustrated gesticulation. "What do you want from me in order to pry this bit of information from your chained up lips?"

I put my finger to my chin to contemplate it. What did I actually want? Nothing really. For them to leave, yeah, but that wasn't possible. No chance in hell of getting them to leave me alone… or getting Jazz to leave me alone when I wanted it. I looked at him for a moment, contemplating another idea that popped into my head. "I want your solemn promise that you wont tell anyone, regardless of what goes on, or who we meet. If you tell anyone, a plant, a bug, another person, a bot, ANYONE at all, I wont trust you again. This is going out of my way here, Jazz. This is something that is important to me, and how I will make sure these girls don't go without anything."

He tilted his head. "If its drugs, I don't care what you do to me, I am turning you in."

"Its not god damned drugs, you fucktard." I barked. "Do I have your word, or do I climb down and leave you alone without another word?"

Jazz gave me the strangest look I had ever seen on his face. "I give my word. If I break it, you can feel free to beat some dents into me with that crowbar of yours."

I sighed, a seed of doubt curdling in my heart. "Alright. Do you remember the night I got in the wreck?"

"Uh, no slag. I ripped your car's door off to pull you out of that mess." Jazz clicked at me.

I glared at him. "I thought it was you. No one has hands that tiny. Anyway, short-shit, I had asked a friend of mine to watch the girls while I went and got some cash the alternative way."

"Alternative way?"

I curled my lip slightly at his condescending tone. "I have connections. One of them happens to be some rich kid who likes to watch folks race for cash."

He blinked at me. "So… I went through all that, just for you to tell me you race illegally."

I rolled my eyes. "Duh. And now my car is out of commission, so I have no ride for the race tomorrow."

The door to the barn slid open, and Sunstreaker and Sideswipe slipped in and shut it, crouching down and peering at me. "We're in." the red twin said.

I swallowed nervously. "In about what?"

"Don't be daft, fleshling." Sunstreaker rolled his eyes at me.

"Don't do incest, SunBuns." I snipped back. "And I'm not stupid. There's nothing to be 'in' about."

The golden mech glared at me. "I'm going to ignore that in favor of doing something other then sitting around this boring ass place and getting lectured by Ratchet."

Sideswipe chuckled at me. "We're not stupid… SunBuns. That's a new one." He snickered slightly. "Anyways, we're in on the race. Sign us up."

I swallowed again. "You heard?"

"No shit." Sunstreaker snapped. "Now, if you truly use this as a source of income, then you best include us, or we have no qualms about telling Prime and Lennox."

I huffed, and glared at Jazz. "You should have known they were there." The silver mech looked flabbergasted, and did not reply. So, I turned back to the twins. "You're a tattletale. Anyway, I cant just 'sign' you up. I'd have to take you one at a time and drive you."

"We have holograms, fleshling." Sunstreaker rumbled. "We don't need you."

"Are they solid?" I asked.

"No. Does it matter?"

I tilted my head down. "Yeah. Tommy, that's the guy I race for, expects to meet his racers face to face and shake hands and do all that macho man shit that I simply humored him with when I started racing. If you win, you wont be able to accept the prize. So… your kind of shit out of luck in that retrospect."

There was a round of loud clicking, whirring, and some sort of strange sound that was similar to a cat in a blender that emitted from the twins throats as they conversed at each other. While they talked, Jazz looked at me. "I didn't tell them." He defended himself.

"No, you didn't." I agreed. "But it still stands. For them too, though I don't suspect they're stupid enough now. I can say I turned down their offer to race with me, and get all four of us into shit." I watched them for a second. "What the hell are they saying?"

Jazz tilted his head. "I don't know. The twins, both sets, created their own dialect of Cybertronian, and often, when confronted with something they don't want others to overhear, they converse in it. Mighty handy in battle. Not so much for the others who don't understand it."

I rubbed my ear. "It sounds like god damned cats in blenders."

"Yep. But normal Cybertronian isn't much different to human ears, so I'm told." Jazz said. "So no crowbar beating for me then?"

"No, your safe for now."

"For now… So ominous."

I shrugged. "You said I can't lie to save my life, so I told you the truth. Your safe for now."

Sunstreaker let off a very human sounding sigh. "Alright. We've discussed it. For the sake of racing, you will be permitted to ride inside us and direct us where to go. However, the second you get any nasty fluids inside me especially, I will fling you out of the seat and into the pathway of an oncoming car."

"I wear a suit of leather, and I'm completely sealed away from touching your seats, so, Sunbuns," I snarked at him, "no worries."

"Good. Now, as I was saying. As soon as we're off into the race, you are to let go of our wheels and not touch anything."

I held up a hand before he could continue. "Problem. Unless your windows are tinted black, and you actually have a roof, mister Lamborghini, I have to hold the wheel. The races are video taped for the thousands of people who come to the races to watch them."

He looked at Sideswipe and clicked at him for a second, and then looked at me again as the red twin answered. "We don't care. So long as we get to race, we don't care if you have to touch us."

I tilted my head. "Okay. One more thing to address; Humans have a tendency to touch nice cars at the race. I would suggest putting on more wax if you want to avoid fingerprints, because it _will_ happen to you."

Sunstreaker gave me a disgusted look. "Alright. Anything else we should be warned of?"

I pursed my lips. "Yeah. You can't say a word during the race, and I go by Lady J. I don't speak ether, and your going to have to deal with Tommy's inappropriate comments involving you, me, him, some condoms, and a large heated garage all alone where no one would find us." Somehow, the face all three bots made was enough to brighten my slowly dampening day.

Sideswipe looked at Jazz. "Alright. Who is racing first?"

I arched a brow. "Why ask him and not me?"

Sunstreaker rolled his eyes. "Stupid fleshling. He's your guardian. In order for us to take you, by the old rules of Cybertron, we have to ask him who takes you first."

I puckered my lips, as Jazz seemed to contemplate an answer. "Unfortunately for Jazz," I interrupted, as Jazz seemed to almost say something. "I think I can decide who I ride with for the race. I don't want a guardian; so he can take that status and shove it up his ass. I control my life; he does not."

Jazz gave me a look that would have withered another woman, if I hadn't been just under half his size. "I think for this one, I'd like to go."

"I choose Sunstreaker." I said. "I might dislike him, but I know he's fast, and speed is something we need. You? Pontiacs don't hit even close to a Lamborghini. You, assmite, are a Solstice. Your car mode is only supposed to hit 120, and you go 0 to 60 in 7 point something odd seconds. A Lamborghini is 0 to 60 in 2. 4 seconds or so." I peered at them. "What model are you?"

Sideswipe ran a hand over his chest. "We took the features we liked from your earth Lamborghini's and put them together to make us what we are."

I frowned. "Okay. Your franken-bots. That's fine. Eh… I'm going to guess you took bits from the fastest Lamborghini's then?"

"Yes."

"So… 345 miles per hour then. See, Jazz? They go double the speed you could."

Jazz looked at me with a frown marring his face. "I am your guardian, whether or not you like it. I said I would go."

I arched a brow at him and turned to slide off his lap, stumbling when I hit the ground wrong on my leg. "Yeah, and I said that your not coming. I'll take ether of the twins."

Sunstreaker, in the corner of my eye, made a throttling motion at me. I turned and waggled my finger at him. "I could simply not go, and just delve into my work so that I can try and make up the money again."

Jazz growled at me. Like, literally, growled at me. The hairs on my arms and neck ruffled again, and I swallowed nervously as he scooped me up just after I hopped down. Holding me to his face, he glared at me. "I will race with you this first time."

"Eh, remember when I set the rules? Remember rule number three? You don't tell me what to do? Yeah. You're breaking it right now. Stop it." I flipped him the double bird. "Put me down."

He didn't set me down. Instead, Jazz settled me in his hand like I was a human shaped lollypop. "I don't care at this particular time. I did tell you that there would be bots that would disregard that rule. Right now is one of those times."

"Aaaaannnnd I'm supposed to give a shit? I don't care. You aren't coming. One of the twins can, and if you continue to disagree, I don't care what you say, the next time your sleeping, I will get my knife out and slash your tires." I barked at him.

He set me on the ground then, not very gently, and then Jazz let out a frustrated strangled cat noise and threw his arms in the air. "Fine! When one of the twins has a temper tantrum and gets you killed, I'm not going to care!"

Giving Jazz a satisfied look, I nodded. "Good. Now, you can tell the two quiet conspirators over there who can take me for the race."

Jazz gave me a look, and then addressed the twins. "Sunstreaker, as punishment for listening in on a conversation that had nothing to do with you, you can act as her car for the race. You do as she says, don't argue, or I make you look like something that would make Megatron have a spark palpitation."

I nodded happily. And made shooing motions. "Alright, alright, good, good. Now go away please. I have work to do, and I don't need you all in here making this barn even hotter than it already is. Open the damn door, please, and show yourselves out."

As the three of them complied, I listened to Sunstreaker let off a string of curses. "Great. I get the fleshling first off… Nasty fluids, skin flakes, dust, dirt, nasty organic-ness all wrapped in one horribly annoying femme package… why did I do this? Racing… Sooo better be worth it."

"I love you too, Sunbuns!" I shouted at him.


	18. Boedighinger

(_**Hey guys, thanks for being such patient readers and followers. I know it must be hell just waiting. But, anyways, here's the race, boring as it may be. Well, not every race can be interesting... In fact, I think I'll skip out on the race this time. I'll give you enough other stuff to read though; some interactions and whatnot. The next chapter might or might not skip some time~ Anyways, thanks again and now enjoy even if it's not very long!**_)

Clad in my leather suit, I had the helmet settled on my lap as I watched the scenery fly past me. The seat beneath my ass was pleasantly warm, and surprisingly soft, for belonging to such an asshole. Sunstreaker had the seatbelt wrapped securely around me, though it hurt the still healing bruises that wrapped around my body like the tracks of an anaconda. I had a glove clad hand rested on the bottom of the steering wheel for appearances only, as Sunstreaker had already hacked my phone and received the coordinates. We would be racing around the area around Stayton, starting and ending at the Arco station. Stayton was an area I was unfamiliar with, and defiantly I would be relying on pleasant Sunbuns to track the course.

Skylar and Hally were being watched by Jazz, unfortunately. I couldn't just tell the soldiers to watch them without a good reason. They didn't seem to mind staying with the silver robot, actually. As for why I was gone, well… we didn't _exactly_ tell Prime or anyone beyond Sideswipe and Jazz that I would be gone. The girls thought I was working late, as per usual.

A song started on Sunstreaker's radio, and I realized that he was playing some sort of strange song. Skrillex, I think. I pursed my lips, half tempted to reach out and kill the song by changing the channel, but I also didn't want to have to try and win the race while walking. Speaking of race… I was waiting on a call from Tommy.

"You're usually flapping your mouth, fleshling." Sunstreaker grunted at me. "And you usually look like something has crawled up you're aft and died. What gives?"

I snorted decisively. "Your one to talk, Sunbuns. Perhaps I'm just waiting on a phone call."

"Don't call me Sunbuns, you petulant flesh-creature." He spat at me.

I arched a brow. "You know, if you want me to stop calling you that, Sunbuns, and call you by your name instead, then perhaps you should extend the same courtesy to me."

It was his turn to snort at me. Sunstreaker swerved to avoid a freshly killed skunk, and I heard a small sound as he drove past. The stench never wafted in, so it serves to point out that he had made the cabin airtight for a time being. "You wouldn't know courtesy even if someone took a giant stamp and stamped it on your optics."

I leaned back in the seat, my hair brushing the leather. The seat beneath me shuddered slightly. "Despite the fact I am a crude and spiteful bitch, I do have manners. I just choose not to use them."

"Prove it." Sunstreaker said in a condescending tone.

"Fine, _Sunstreaker_, I will." I snarked at him. "One of these days anyway."

There was another snort. "If it weren't for the fact that I promised Jazz to return you without detriment, I would throw you from my interior and hit you when I make a u-turn."

Dryly, I sighed. "Gee, I feel the love. Now, can you cut that horrid music off? It's going to ruin my ears." In response, the music turned up louder. "And," I lied swiftly, "it'll ruin your speakers too." Sunstreaker didn't say anything for a while, and in the meantime, my cell phone rang with an obnoxious tone. Pulling it from my jacket pocket, I flipped it open and held it to my ear. "Torrie here."

"Ah! There's my favorite Lady J!" Tommy chirped at me. "I was calling to make sure you were coming. You mentioned that your Jimmy is out for the count for a while, right?"

"Yeah?" I half asked, half stated.

There was the sound of a cheer in the background, and then Tommy's voice appeared again. "Sorry, the crowd is antsy. Anyway, I can lend you a car if you need to."

I tilted my head to watch the rear view mirror as it angled toward me slightly. "I got it covered Tommy. No worries. Just look for the rather petulantly yellow vehicle that'll pull up in a few."

"Yellow?" he said blandly. "That's such a drab color on most vehicles. What model you driving? VW? And where the fuck did you find one?"

"Being a mechanic with connections has its perks, Tommy." Dryly, I answered. "For your information, its defiantly a vehicle that you'd get a hard-on for. But please, resist the urge to try and fuck the car. The owner would be increasingly displeased with us if you did."

I heard Tommy shudder out an 'ooooh' noise. "Now you have me curious! I know you had a wreck and broke something in your foot, so it can't be a clutch… What is it? Tell me!"

Quietly, so as not to be heard by Tommy, Sunstreaker snorted. "He sounds even more annoying then you."

I waved the Autobot off with a scowl. "I'd ruin the surprise if I did."

Tommy practically oozed the tone of a pout as he spoke again. "If you tell me now, I'll give you an extra five grand as a… get well gift."

Well stick me to a livewire and call me sparky. "You got a deal. I happen to be driving a very sexy," Sunstreaker seemed to preen at the comment, "custom built and incredibly fast," more preening, "Lamborghini."

My phone shorted out slightly and my ear rang when I was too slow to pull it away from the phone as Tommy let out the unmanliest squealing noise ever. "I just jizzed in my pants a little right there! Does she purr?"

I pulled a face. "To much information Tommy. And for your information, yes, _he_ purrs."

Tommy was silent. "It's a he?" he was quiet. "… Kinky!"

My mouth puckered again right about the time that Sunstreaker gave an obviously disgusted shudder. "Tommy, you are the _strangest_ man I have ever met."

"I know." He stated. "But, I'm rich, bisexual, and have a fettish for sexy cars who are many genders. I am who I am, strange or not. Besides, it take a weirdo to know a weirdo, doesn't it?"

"It certainly does." I agreed, right about the time we passed a sign that stated, 'Welcome to Stayton!' in great big letters. "Anyways, I'll talk to you later. Stayton's coming up now."

"Alright. I'm gonna tell your fans that your back in the game, 'k?"

"Sure, Tommy." I agreed.

"Hey!" I heard him shout to the crowd as I lowered the phone. "Lady J's back in the game with a swinging new ride!" As the scream of people rose up, I clicked the phone off.

I rubbed my ear sorely and tucked the phone away before using one hand to set everything up in my helmet. Sunstreaker's voice crackled to life through the speakers. "That is the most strange and crazed human I have ever heard. He even tops you, Torrie."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that." I said dryly. "After all, I'm crazy enough to deal with all of you AutoAsses."

"True that." He agreed mutely.

Slipping the helmet over my head and securing it tightly, I reached out and patted the dash. "Good boy." I said, the mouth guard not currently covering my lips. "You know my name."

The static of the radio let out some sort of strange and oddly cursing sound. "Do that again and I'll shove my pede up your tiny organic anus."

I arched a brow. "And get shit on your foot? Your too prissy for that."

"Shit washes off. My foot up your anus does not." He stated bluntly.

"Well," I whistled softly, "your foot would wash off if I coated it in a metal dissolving acid, now wouldn't it?"

The voice in the radio sneered at me in a condescending tone. "And where, fleshling, do would you get such an item?"

Unbidden, my lips curled into a grin as I fastened the mouth guard over my face. "What Tommy wants, Tommy gets, and what Tommy gets, he usually uses as a prize for the winners of the race."

He went quiet for a bit. As we pulled onto the street where the cars were lined up, the parking lot filled with spectators, Sunstreaker chose that time to grunt at me. "That explains the fireworks. Your point has been duly noted and stored away in my memory core."

I patted his seat. "Good. Now, shush, and tune into the radio frequency that they're on."

"Sir, yes sir." He quipped. As he was tuning the channel, I took the moment to pinch a seam of his leather seat. Sunstreaker's engine revved loudly, and I took that as a note that he got the message.

When the radio buzzed with the sound of Tommy's voice, I reached into my helmet and turned it on so I could hear them better. "Ooh! Look at the ride that Lady J is sporting! I wonder if any of you racer's will be able to beat her this time; no bunnies around here to thwart her winning now!"

Sunstreaker turned into the path that parted for the racers. People watched his form with a sort of appreciative awe, their faces shining and practically drooling over his car mode. If it weren't for the fact that I knew none of them would recognize me, I would have covered my face and pretended I wasn't there; especially when Sunstreaker gave a preening rev of his engine. As Sunstreaker pulled up to the front of the cars, settling near Jason's Volvo, the window of Jason's car rolled down. He leaned out the window and waved at me.

Jason had leaned over and grabbed his CB, and pulled it to his mouth. "Hey Lady J. Where did you find a nice ride like that?"

I pressed the button for Sunstreaker's window to roll down, and, with a disgruntled noise from the radio, he obeyed. I shrugged at Jason, pantomiming the fact that it wasn't really any of his business.

In response, Jason had chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, you and your secrecy. So, what putz did you have to give head and spread your legs for in order to get a smoke'n ride like that?"

I flipped him the bird and furrowed my brows. What an asshole.

He did this little Jazz-hands thing. "Yeah, I'm an asshole, I know. But I know for a fact that there's no way anyone in their right fuckin' minds that would willingly let a car that nice go to a race where someone is sure to hit it hard." From behind the tinted visor of my mask, I leered at him. I even tilted my head slightly to let him know I was giving him a glare. Jason held up his hand and waved me off. "Whatever. I know, if I had a car like that, I'd never let someone else drive it. Don't give me that look." I persisted in the look I had been giving him, and he looked away.

"You know," Jason continued. "You can be a fuckin' creepy bitch when you want to." I lowered my hand, tucking it back onto the wheel. "Whatever. I know I don't have a chance of winning with that beast dominating the road. Sorry if I was offending to you."

I rolled Sunstreaker's window back up, and then sighed silently. Sunstreaker shifted his knobs on his radio, and I heard the cab go silent as he cut all signal to it. "He was an asshole. What does giving head mean anyway?"

I pulled off my helmet mouthpiece, muted my helmet for good measure, and then frowned at him. "You're a giant alien robot. You have constant access to the World Wide Web. Make use of it." With that said, I snapped my mouthpiece back on and turned my helmet back on.

Seeming to sense our conversations end, Sunstreaker seemed to unblock the jammed signals. Tommy's voice blared out of the radio. "Thanks to the wreck at the intersection of South East Etzel and Fern Ridge Road, our race paths have been cut down to only a third. So, that means our race is going to be astronomically short." He gave a disappointed sigh. "So, that means I'll have to give you an extra rout. Damn those stupid kids recklessly driving. They should know not to speed. All right, so here's your rout. You'll head out on Cascade Highway, hanging a left and following it until you reach East Fern Ridge Road. Then, turn right onto that, and follow it down. When you reach BoeDigheimer Road, swing a left onto that. Follow it, until you reach the crossway of Coon Hollow Road and Church Street. Take a right on Coon Hollow, and follow it down to South East Dennison. Follow Dennison up, do not turn on 170th Avenue. When you reach the end, you'll swing a left onto Triumph. Follow Triumph until you hit Boedigheimer again. Take that road all the way down to Fern Ridge, turn right, and head back to Cascade Highway. The first to make it back here, wins a whopping thirteen grand! Second place gets eight grand, but that's not as grand as thirteen whoppers is."

The crowd rose up into a roar, and calmed when Tommy motioned for silence. "Alright, now that we have the initial monies out of the way, I'll inform you first place also gets some of the fanciest car wax I could get my grubby little hands on! The delivery guy may or may not have been bribed to bring me an extra amount for you guys. So, the thanks go to Jeremy Filihicker, the most awesome delivery guy ever!" There was a short cheer, followed by a curious click from Sunstreaker's radio, and then Tommy tapped his microphone from his position outside of my line of vision. "Alright, ladies, germs, germophobes, homophobes, and phobic's in general, are you ready for the race?"

A collective scream rose up from the crowd, loud enough to rattle Sunstreaker's window. "Hell yeah!"

"Then, on your marks… Start those engines…" Sunstreaker hadn't ever shut off his engine, so his simply roared in response, the sound loud and pungent to my ears. "Ah…. Listen to that saucy Lamborghini purr…. Ehem… eh, Ready? Set? Go!"

The communal sounds of wheels peeling out surrounded us, and Sunstreaker shot off the line as soon as the car in front of him had moved enough for us to slip in-between him and Jason's Pontiac. He shot off so fast and suddenly, that I was jerked back against the seat, sending my ribs into a flare of pain, and let off a grunt.

"Looks like Lady J is off in the lead! This one is surely in the bag for her, even if, by her sexy grunting noises, she's not quite used to the orgasmic horse power of the stud she rides!"

As we neared the finish line, having been in first place since Sunstreaker shot off, I let myself relax. No animals had hopped out in front of us, Sunstreaker was fast enough that no one even came close enough to scratch us, and it had been an uneventful race. Well, for me anyway. One of the other racers caught the attention of a cop, and left the race to lose the cop's tailing. Just the kind of race I liked. I was relaxed in the seat, my hand only on the moving wheel for visual purposes, and my legs stretched out as much as they could be.

The finish line came into view, Tommy's face on a projector as he cheered with the other racing patrons. Over the radio and in my headset, I could hear him talking. "What a nice race! With the exception of Darmen getting caught by the PoPo, it was a relatively eventless race. Lady J won this by a long shot," he blabbered as we passed the line, shortly followed by Jason. When we pulled up into the Prize spot, Tommy scooted down to the side of my car with a fucking huge crate of some unknown type of wax and my checks. "I think this was the easiest win she's ever had! Anyways," he continued, turning the MIC off. "Here," he handed me the checks as I rolled down my window. Tommy opened the back door to the Lamborghini, thankfully Sunstreaker didn't react or do anything, and had one of his buddies slide the woefully heavy looking crate into the back. Patting the top, he waved me off with a, "Good job," and went to go give Jason his prize.

As we left, I turned off my helmet and made sure it was unhooked. When we were completely alone, I took my helmet off, leaving Sunstreaker to drive as I unguarded my head.

"You know," his voice rang through the radio, "I would like you a whole lot better if I got to use some of that wax."

I rolled my eyes. "I certainly don't want it. Consider it your prize for winning."

He snorted at me.


	19. Dragons Breath

(_**Thank you all for sticking with me, even though my updates are few and far between. I'm thinking of starting another story, to try and bring my muse back by adding another bunny to the race. Truly, I'll try and keep the updates going. But this bunny is chewing up my brain.**_

_**MERRY EARLY CHRISTMAS!**_

_**Anyways, enjoy this chapter. It was designed to be peaceful, but eh, however it turns out is how it turns out. **_

_**CURVE BALL! BOO-FREAKING-YAH!**_

_**The song "The Dragons Breath" by the Celtic Circle inspired chapter 19. It's truly a song to blow you away, so I recommend you look at it**_

_**And I just literally wrote this in, like, three hours :/.**_)

It's August twelfth, and I've been busy since the race. With the wax that I got and gave to Sunstreaker, I found myself heckled multiple times by Sideswipe. He wanted me to wax him, and so I obliged. Well, he did threaten to tell Prime of Sunstreaker and my own trip off to the races. Anyways, apparently I wax really nicely, and he came back multiple times in the midst of my work. Getting school clothes for the girls, fixing my Jimmy the best I could, and getting the shit scared out of me by my own car was all a very taxing set of days. Sideswipe just didn't seem to care.

I was sitting beside my Jimmy, staring intently between a gap in the metal frame that I hadn't yet fixed. Earlier this August, on the sixth, I had been angry at Jazz. Nothing new there, though; I'm always irritated at Jazz. Anyways, I had fled in here so as to avoid scaring my cousins. I hadn't just been angry though; I was furious. But, I'd count that up to having my period during that week. In my fury, I had lashed out at the closest thing; my Jimmy. When I had struck the side of the car, a light had flashed from within the engine as it let out a sound similar to it attempting to turn over and start to life, and it felt like something had curb stomped my shoulder.

Now I was curious, and slightly freaked out. I was sporting a bruise on my shoulder that was similar to the dent that my walking boot had put in the front part of the Jimmy. For the past six days, I had practically been watching my car like a stalker. As of today, August twelfth, I had seen the light brighten a total of eight times, each time, when I was frustrated, angry, or just simply moody.

Perhaps I had never just noticed it before, being that no one ever expects his or her car to light up like a fucking jack-o-lantern on Halloween, or perhaps I had simply turned a blind eye to it. Regardless of how it came to be, it bothered me immensely.

I wiggled my fingers along side the metal, fingering around for a way to try and reach the lowly glowing light without damaging the car. I pulled off my gloves, letting my oil stained hands free to wedge themselves between the metal. I wiggled my arm up through the crack, finding the widest spot in the torn and battered metal where the passenger side door would have connected to the actual car. From there, I wedged myself forwards until I was sitting on my knees, reaching for the soft glow that I could plainly see, now that my face was almost halfway in the hole along with my arm.

Whatever that light was, it was radiating something in-between warm and cool temperature wise, kind of like someone's body is when they've been sleeping for a while. When my hand was close enough, to the point I could almost touch the shadow of it, a small baby blue tendril snaked out from between the engine block and something I don't remember adding to my car, though a hole about the size of two of my fists. I froze, not really sure what the fuck I was looking at. A glowworm?

The worm like stand waved around slightly, and then it drew itself nearer to my hand then I felt comfortable with. I went to draw away, and the tendril wrapped around my fingers. A jolt traveled through me, like a static cling from a balloon, making my hair frizz out in its ponytail. A sense of calm flowed through me, my muscles relaxed, and my mind felt muddled, unbothered by anything it seemed. Worries flew from my mind, no fears touched me, and that overwhelming sense of calm radiated.

The tendril pulsed against my finger, and then just disappeared inside of my skin, leaving another to snake out and take its place for a short time. My heart settled heavily, thudding in my ears, as my gaze grew glazed. The second wisp wiggled over my hand, traveling over my veins, my scars, and lingering on the calluses, as if unsure what it was. A feeling of calm knowing zapped through me, and then the wisp grew slow, as if tired. It reached up and stroked gently over the scar on my forehead, seeming to disappear out of my view, like it went into my skull. I drew my hand back as the wisp drew back slowly, disappearing into the hole.

"What are you doing, Torrie?" Jazz spoke from somewhere above me.

As if the oozy goop of calmness had sloughed from my body to be replaced by alarm and confusion, I jerked with a start, pulling my arm back with a shudder and slipping back to land on my ass. I glared up at him slightly; still a bit unsure of what just occurred. "What do you want, Jazz?" I rubbed my ribs gingerly, tentatively touching the bumped around broken bones with a wince.

He gazed at me quizzically from behind his visor; whatever he was thinking was hidden from my prying eyes. "Nothing. Something set off my scanners, but I'm not too sure just what it was… I think my scanners have a malfunction."

"And just what exactly set off your scanners?" I snapped.

Jazz leaned down and wrapped his clawed fingers around me, lifting me to my feet gently before letting me go. "Calm down, I did nothing to warrant your anger. Primus, its like your some cranky dragon breathing your angry dragons breath on me for disturbing you."

"Uh, yeah, you did." I stated. "You didn't warn me you were coming in, and scared the ever living bejeesus out of me."

Jazz frowned at me. "I did call to you. Three times. You didn't answer, and it was about then that I sensed a signal on my scanners."

"What kind of signal?" I grunted. "I was busy inside the engine of my Jimmy, thanks."

"A spark signal." He said.

I hummed thoughtfully. There was no way that light was what he sensed. I had hand built the whole damn car, right down to piecing together the bars for the spare tire on the back. But that shard… what could it have done when that lightning arched through it and me? Did it damage my car? Or give it a blue thing?

Only one way to know… "Jazz, I need to ask Ratchet something." I said. He would know, I think.

Jazz tilted his head at me and let off a low set of clicks. Then he reached up and tapped one of those strange 'Thor' style things on the side of his head. He was silent for a bit, and then he lowered his arm with a sigh. "Doc'll be here in a few seconds. He's wondering if you hurt yourself again."

"Nope." I said. "No injuries this time, I do believe."

"Good." Ratchet grunted as he shoulder open the door wider and scooted past Jazz. Settling on his haunches near me, I watched as he ran his eyes over me. "What do you need?"

I gently nudged the tire of my car as I stared at him. "You know, that was fast."

(_**Quick question; which is the correct spelling for a car tire? Is it 'Tire' or 'Tyre'? I'm perpetually lost on this one…**_)

Ratchet grunted at me. "I was just on the other side of the barn."

"Oh."

"Indeed. Now, ask me what you need to know, and then let me be." Ratchet grumped.

I tsked slightly. "Alright. Ratchet," I glanced warily at Jazz as he rocked forwards curiously and stared intently at me, "what do sparks look like?"

The medical Cybertronian arched an eyebrow at me and hummed deeply. "And why on earth would you want to know this?"

"Eh…" I swallowed and didn't really answer him. "So anyways, are sparks blue?"

"Most of them, yes. Femme sparks, like Chromia or Elita-1, are a lighter blue; what your kind would call baby blue, or perhaps sky blue. Mechs have a darker spark, larger usually, unless the femme herself is of large frame. Perhaps a navy blue would best describe it, though no two sparks are the exact same shade, with the exception of split-spark twins." He lowered his head and was pretty much face to face with me. "Now, oblige me. What do you know that relates to sparks?" I furrowed my brows at him. "Don't even give me that look. Ms. Evans, you are a terrible liar; when you refused to answer why you wished to know, I became suspicious. Now, tell me."

I looked back at the Jimmy slightly nervously, hedging the edge of my toe on the rim of the wheel. "Eh. Not really sure how to say it." I said. How would I say it? My car has little glowworm wispy things in the engine? And they basically molested my hand? My mouth blurted out some mix of the two. "My hand and face got molested by these little wispy things in the Jimmy's engine block."

Jazz's face deadpanned. "Uh… da'fuck?"

"My thoughts exactly." I said.

Ratchet gazed at me steadily. "Where did you see them? Point out the exact spot if you can."

Kneeling down stiffly, I nodded and slid my arm back into the hole nervously. I took a peek to make sure I was in the right spot, and then moved my head so Ratchet could see over my shoulder. "It was in there. I don't remember adding the part that's next to the engine; I don't even know what it is. It wasn't there until the wreck, where that shard melted to my forehead."

"Shard?" he hummed, peering quizzically over my shoulder. "What did it look like?"

"Uh. Metal? Strange? It had these little marks carved into it. The remainder should still be hanging from my rearview mirror." I said. "Whatever it was, it melted to my forehead after that lighting strike practically shocked the ever living hell out of me."

"And you found it where?" The medical bot asked. He nudged my shoulder over slightly, staring intently as I felt my hand be ghosted over by a tendril. "That doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"No." I said. The wisp of light held tightly to my finger, as if protecting me from my nerves. "It's actually kinda calming, however fucking freaky it is. Anyway, I found that shard of metal in Mission city when it popped my tire, not that it's any of your fucking business."

"Jazz," Ratchet sharply addressed the silver robot. "Scan the shard, and the metal of her forehead. Do you sense any of its energy?"

A blue light raked over my car and myself, sending my skin crawling with the willies. The tendril of light tightened around my fingers, looping further to hold my hand as well. Jazz grunted somewhere above me. "Dead energy in the shard. I can't sense anything major in her forehead, but that spark energy practically reeks of being All-Spark born."

From behind me, Ratchet ran a scan. "I cannot get any processor readings from it." He murmured. "There is no denying it; your car is a Cybertronian. I detect other foreign parts in the car; parts native to my kind. But, what I cannot figure out, is why there seems to be no brain waves, essentially, coming from the car."

Some soft of mixture between bafflement, anger, and complete horror filled me. "What the fuck!" I spat. The car I hand built was some damn robot now? "I shouldn't have picked up that fucking shard…" I spat. Pulling my hand back from the receding tendril, I stepped away from the jimmy. "So what, its brain dead?" I asked Ratchet.

"If you hadn't have picked up that shard, you would be dead by now. The lightning that hit your car would have fried your brain faster then I could squish you between my hands." Ratchet said bluntly. "As for brain dead, yes, it seems to be. But, it seems more like a drone then completely brain dead. It reacts to your anger."

I flung my hands in the air and paced. "Reacts? How?"

"Right now, you're pacing, and radiating a feeling of anger, and your heart has sped up. The spark in your drone is pulsing in time with your heart, and is undulated, like agitated water."

I took a second to ponder just what had been said, and my shoulders slumped. A flighty feeling settled in my chest, something I never usually felt. In the back of my mind, I knew something, yet I couldn't place just what it was. "And that means what? We're connected? It's feeding off of me like a leach?"

Ratchet shook his head softly. "No." he spoke to me like someone who was trying to keep someone from jumping off of a bridge. "Quite frankly, you and your drone are connected in a way, but not like you think. I need to run tests," he ticked it off on his fingers, "scans, diagnostics, and a whole slew of other things before I can be sure."

"Sure of what, Doc?" Jazz asked curiously.

"Of whether or not the drone is the same being as Torrie. Their life pumps, hear and spark, beat at the exact same time. If one speeds up, so does the other. If one slows, as if calm, so does the other. That's what I need to know; is it coincidence? Or," he hummed. "Something more?" He looked at me, as I let my jaw drop. "I'll need to talk to you later about things. I'll take over repairing your drone; you don't know what it takes to keep it alive; I don't want to risk you dieing with it if you kill it."

"It? Alive?" I gaped. "What the hell?"

Jazz tsked dryly from behind me. "Thanks Ratchet. You've gone and broken my charge's processor."

"Wasn't it already broken to start with?"


	20. Grow On Me

(_**I know I haven't updated in a while, and I've been lax about it, so I'm sorry. Been busy with my new laptop, browsing the web, and trying to figure out how to work the blasted thing. I'm still working out the kinks of it, and it's proving to be a pain in the ass. Silly Jazz. Yes, I know, I'm weird because I named my laptop Jazz. I can't say I care, and I can't say I don't care.**_

_**New story is up, with the acronym of FAA.**_

_**Anyways, enjoy. Sorry if its short, but eh… Still trying to save my muse. Check out FAA if you haven't, or if you want.**_)

I sat on my porch, my head in my hands, as I stared at my feet. My car was alive. It may be brain dead, but it was very much alive, and I don't ever remember it being anything more then my precious hunk of metal. Now, thanks again to those stupid aliens, my baby is a brain dead robot. All of my years of hard work have gone to waste; all with the unveiling of these bots and the destruction they have wrought upon our planet.

But it's my fault too. I picked up the shard. I chose to take it with me instead of tossing it down the gutter. It's a god damned double edge sword. Ratchet says the shard was the only thing that kept me alive; without it, I'd be dead, and my girls would be out in a foster home. It saved me, and I can't help but hate it and not hate it at the same time.

I gave a frustrated sigh and looked up at the dark sky. I hadn't been able to sleep, and it was about midnight. Skylar and Hally were sleeping in their room, snuggled, probably, in the same bed about now. I should be in my room, sleeping. But I cant. My brain won't settle. So it looks like another sleepless night for me.

Reaching to my right, I grabbed my jug of iced tea and then stood up with a sigh. Mumbling to myself, I walked towards my Tractor, the old Kubota under one of my many floodlights around my barn and house. "Since Ratchet has monopolized my barn to fix the drone, I might as well make myself useful and finally check out what's wrong with the Kubota."

"You know," I heard Jazz say from the tree line as his silver solstice form rolled out of the trees in front of me, "talking to yourself is considered crazy."

I scowled at him, half tempted to dump my tea on him. The only thing that kept me from doing that was the fact that it would be a waste of tea. "It's only considered crazy if I answer myself."

His door popped open, inviting me silently. "And somehow I can see you doing that. Where are ya' headed?"

I booted his door shut non-gently with my foot. "None of your business you nosey lump of scrap." Stepping around him, I continued to where the Kubota was. Nonplussed, I found that the floodlight above it was dimmer then it should have been. "Damn. The bulb needs to be changed soon."

I heard him following me, and then he rolled up next to me, his engine thrumming warmly. "You could change it now."

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. "I don't really want to go rooting around in my storage shed for my box of bulbs and my ladder in the dark." Taking a quick sip of my tea, I edged a little bit away from Jazz so he didn't run over my foot.

Jazz hummed from somewhere on his vehicle mode. "So you're going to procrastinate."

"That's what I said." I agreed. Upon getting closer to the damaged tractor, I could make out the energon stuff that coated the prong and the pistons. It had dried on, and would need to be scrubbed off, from the looks of it. Setting my tea jug on the ground, I approached and put one foot up on the front wheel to pull myself up and check the engine. It had gone far to fast for it to be good for the engine.

While I fiddled around for the catch on the tractors hood, I heard Jazz transform and then light flooded the area, briefly blinding me before my eyes adjusted. I shot him a glare, to which he just chuckled before scooting closer. "I was just trying to help."

The hood popped up, and I shoved it further up. "Well, thanks I suppose. A little warning would have been nice."

"I'll try to remember next time Torrie." He said. He looked down over me, the slight shadow cast by his helm would have blocked the light if he hadn't been the one emanating it. "So what are you doing exactly?"

I tilted my head with a slight sound, rooting around in the block. "Trying to see if the NOS has damaged my Kubota too much."

A blue light flashed out from behind me, scanning almost through me. It went over the engine, and then disappeared. "Well, according to my scans, the mechanism that pumps the fuel through the system has a bit of wear and tear, but beyond that, the only thing damaged is the pistons that operate the mechanism that lifts the prongs… And of course, the prongs themselves. They're, eh… not as straight as they once were."

"Waaaaay to say the obvious, you micro midget." I snorted.

"Micro midget." He grunted at me. "That's a new one. Not very nice of you, Torrie."

Snorting dryly, I sighed. "Haven't you heard? I'm not a very nice person."

"That's a lie." Jazz snorted. "Don't get me wrong; you can be a right ol' glitch, but so can anyone. You can be nice; I've seen it. Anyone can have the capacity for kindness, it just depends on the person for how much they show."

Purposefully, I jerked my foot out to kick him in the leg. "You pulled that out of a fortune cookie, you idiot."

I found myself scooped up gently by the waist, where there was only a bruise to hurt, and then dropped into Jazz's palm. I turned over to look at him as he grinned down at me. "I did not. Chill out, Torrie. Your so… angry all the time."

I arched my brows and puckered my mouth. "I'm not a very happy person, in case you didn't notice."

"You are happy, you just don't like to show it." He remarked. "Your automatic reaction to something going wrong or something bad is to be angry towards it. It's your defense mechanism."

I sighed and closed my eyes. "You aren't the first to tell me that." I leaned back on his finger, reclining slightly. "It's just how I am; no defenses needed."

"But it is your defense." He continued. "Kind of like stress and insomnia are your defense against stressful things like your car."

Deadpan, I sighed. "Whatever. So what? My car bothers me. I built it from the wheels up practically, and now it's suddenly alive, when it had never been alive any time before your race ended up duking it out in down town Mission city."

"Want to talk about it?"

I scrunched my face up at him. "No. I don't. There is nothing to talk about."

He leered down at me. "uhuh. I believe that about as much as I believe Wheeljack when he tells me something is completely safe."

I looked back up at him with the same look. "Did you actually think I'd answer you?"

"No, but it was worth a try." He spoke.

Jazz exhaled warm air onto me, and I huffed at him. We stared at each other for a while, his visor kind of unnerving to me. You could kind of tell where his optics were located, because there were two bright points in the visor. Both of those bright spots were currently located in the direction of my face, staring without blinking. When his mouth smoothed out into a flat line, I realized he was actually considering me instead of just creeping me out.

"I don't want to be connected to any of you." I growled at him. "I don't want the drone connected to me, and it makes me think that it is with how Ratchet described it. What the fuck am I supposed to do with it? Play fetch with it?" I rubbed my arm and broke away from the gaze lock. "I don't want any of this."

"Well, they say that the first step is usually the hardest. Now, a few more baby steps, and we'll be on the road to friendship." There was a thick silence that followed, and then he nodded his head right about the time my body pulled a static cling effect and sent an electrical bolt through his hand and back to my ass. "You don't have to shock me over this, you know. But I understand the vantage that you're coming from. You don't want the change."

"I didn't do it on purpose. That's another thing your little alien metal and the lightning bolt did to me; I get these annoying little zappy things." I groused.

Jazz snorted at me. "We can call you Zappy then, because I haven't the slightest clue as to why it makes you shock other people."

I kicked his hand again. "It's a good thing your starting to grow on me, albeit unwillingly, you stupid micro midget, because otherwise I would slash your tires the next time you settle into your car form."

He tilted his head slightly. "So I'm like black mold?" he listed off the first that came to mind.

I shook my head and rubbed my neck. "I certainly hope not. I'd be dead. I'm allergic to that nasty stuff. Anyways, can you let me down? I'm thirsty."


	21. Douse The Fire's Flame

(_**I am incredibly glad that you are all so patient with me; I try and update when the muse strikes, and when I can. Anyways, this is somewhat of a filler, somewhat not a filler. I don't really know. A bit more bonding, I suppose. Its short; it's all I seem to be able to write anymore :/ sorry.**_)

"No." Ratchet rumbled at me. He was bent over the drone, my old car, and was fiddling with something under the hood.

We had been arguing for the past hour or so; he wasn't letting me in my own shop to do my work. It was making it that much harder to get everything done outside, with a good majority of the Autobots watching me like I was some sort of amusing toy. Weeks working in the sun had made me loose weight; and now I have this goddamned sunburn that _refuses_ to go away. Being sick and tired of being ousted from my own workplace is what brought me here.

I crossed my arms with a scowl. "Ratchet." I grunted, shifting a little on my legs. "I need to work. You cannot have _my entire_ garage to yourself, you fat ass. You don't need it all. I kinda need to be where I can easily access my stuff."

Ratchet stopped his fiddling long enough to turn around and give me _the look_. He'd started giving it to me whenever I came near the barn if I said anything to him regarding work. "According to you, I'm a fat lump of scrap metal, _therefore_ I'm entitled to as much space as my fat aft deems to be enough."

I threw my hands into the air with a frustrated sound. "It's a day from September! You've had this place since the beginning bits of August, and I've been stuck working outside. Honestly, can't you just move to the back of the barn? It wont hurt you."

Ratchet frowned at me. "It sucks when you get a taste of your own medicine, doesn't it? Now shoo, your distracting me. This is delicate work."

As he turned his back to me again, it made me angry. Because I couldn't exactly just walk up and smack him behind the head to get his attention and let him know that I wasn't finished with him, my body found an alternative method. My hand found itself around my dented crowbar, and before I could realize just how stupid I was being, I had twisted my upper half around, rocking onto the walking boot holding my right ankle in place, and let it fly. There was about a second where I wondered just what threw the crowbar, before my hand came into view, and the bar hit Ratchet on the back of his upper arm, near the shoulder. It bounced off with a loud bang, and then clattered noisily down his back to land with a dull thump on the floor.

The look that Ratchet gave me was something akin to what I thought he might give a Decepticon. My skin crawled, the hair on my arms and back of my neck standing up. When he rotated on his feet, I took a step back from him, towards the safety of the door. Fight or flight is a powerful instinct; I'd already been shown that fighting these things and winning on your own is next to in-fucking-possible, so my body chose the most logical one for me to attempt. His arm flashed out to grab me, and I'm not afraid to say that I ran like a little scared bitch.

Walking boot or not, I booked it. Sure, it hurt, but what I imagined he plotted to do to me was certain to hurt worse. But, unfortunately, human legs are something that lacks the coordination of robot legs, so I found myself stumbling more then Ratchet did. I fled around the barn, taking corners that the big robot couldn't, and when I came to the field, I booked it for the silver solstice form of Jazz.

I slipped under him, wedging under the low riding vehicle, right about the time that Ratchet lumbered around the corner of the barn, having given chase to me. My movements must have woke Jazz up because he rose just slightly on his shocks, giving me enough room to hide well out of sight. I wasn't sure that he saw me, but I figured he could probably sense me.

Ratchet neared Jazz and tapped him with a foot. "I know she's under you." He growled. "And I know you are awake. Move, so I can deal with Torrie."

Jazz's voice very nearly gave me a headache with how loud it was from under the carriage of his alternative move. "She's not under me Doc." He yawned. "You probably sense her because she practically scrambled over my roof."

"And that woke you." Ratchet, from what I could see of his foot, shifted slightly, and he groused at Jazz. "You sleep like the dead."

Jazz grumbled, settling a little further down on his shocks, to the point they had been when I had attempted scrambling under. "Yeah, well when something as big as her flails over your roof like some sort of epileptic squirrel, you'd find yourself waking up from a nice dream too." He groused. "Your scanners must be off. She bolted for the forest like Unicron himself was nipping at her aft. What'd she do to slag you off anyway?"

Ratchet growled. "She hit me." He bit out. I watched from under Jazz as Ratchet stepped over the solstice and headed for the woods without another word.

Jazz let me out with a grunt once Ratchet was out of range. "You are welcome." He yawned at me. "Hit him, eh? With what?"

I crawled out along side his door. "I hit him with a crowbar."

"You have a death wish." Jazz informed me cheerily. "Why?"

"He made me angry."

Jazz hummed at me. "You haven't hit me when you're angry."

"No," I agreed, "but you aren't stupid enough to turn your back to me and ignore me when I'm pissed at you ether."

The car sunk down on his axels slightly. "No," he agreed, "I'm not that stupid. But, Doc is going to be royally slagged at you for the rest of forever." He pointed out.

I nodded. "I kinda suspected that though."

Jazz made that sound he makes when he's thinking in vehicle mode. While he was thinking, I got to my feet and dusted off my ass end and front. Dirt and dry- very dry- dust fluttered from both ends, along with little clumps of dead and brown grass. "One of these days he's going to give you a wallop." He hummed. "Not one that he'd give one of us, of course. He'll probably knock you for a loop though, once he's finished studying human anatomy."

Rubbing my arm lightly on the spot where I had skinned my elbow when I slid under Jazz, I frowned at him. "Somehow the thought of him studying human anatomy scares me."

Jazz hummed and rolled forwards with a small clicking sound. "I don't blame you." I watched his dive view mirror twitch and shift, and then he let out a small coughing sound. "Your cousin Hally is coming this way." He said. "She looks distressed, but she isn't hurt." I furrowed my brows and turned, scanning the field for her. I spotted the bobbing of her bright red hair as it streaked across the field towards me, and moved to meet her, dismissing the silver Autobot.

"Torrie!" Hally called to me. She waved her arms at me, and I bent to pick her up as she sailed into my grasp. The red color of her hair filled my vision briefly as velocity made it smack my face, and Hally buried her face in my neck. She babbled something that I didn't quite make out, but I headed back towards the house, out of view of any observing Autobots.

"Hally, Hally," I soothed her awkwardly, cradling her close to me. "I can't understand you baby girl. You gotta speak to me so I can hear you."

Hally sniffed at me and pulled back, her eyelashes wetted with tears. "Torrie, Skyler doesn't feel good. She went bleh outside, and now she wont come out of the potty, and she wont let me in…" she sniffled.

I patted her back softly and hobble-jogged to the house. "She went 'bleh' outside? Bleh, as in vomit kind of bleh?" I asked her softly.

"Yeah…" Hally murmured softly. "She pukeded and then ran in the house. She wont talk to me ether…"

"She wasn't sick earlier." I said softly. "Did she eat anything or do anything while I was working that might have made her sick?"

"No. We were playin' with the nuff… nurr… nerf?" She asked me. I nodded, and she continued. "Nerf guns with the soldier people. They're trying to get sissy to come out of the potty… But she was okay until a little bit ago, when she said she was hot and dat her tummy felt funny. D'en she got sick."

When I got to the deck, I set her down gently on the steps. "Go to your room and wait for me, okay? I'll get your sissy out, and we'll take care of her."

"Okay…" Hally nodded at me. She wiped her eyes slightly and sniffled.

I patted the mass of red curls on her head softly, and then I headed in the house, leaving the door open for Hally to follow me in. After shaking off clumps of dust on my walking boot while I hobbled through the living room, I came down the hallway to find all four soldiers huddled around my closed and obviously locked bathroom door.

Lennox was in the front, by the door, knocking on it lightly. "Skyler, baby girl, come out please." He said soothingly, with obvious practice and ease.

Scooby whispered to Booby with a small frown. "Do you think Torrie would flip her shit if we just, you know, took the door off its hinges?"

While Bobby shrugged in response to James question, while I scooted near to them. "I would mind if you destroyed my new house, thank you." I clipped. I wiggled through the group of four soldiers and sidled up to the door next to Lennox. "So what happened?"

He sighed at me. "I think she might have gotten heat-sick with how hot it is out there. She didn't mention anything while we were playing with the Nerf guns, but the fact that she got so ill without warning makes me wonder."

I nodded. "It sounds like it." I said. Reaching up, I grabbed the doorknob and studied it. "This is like the one in my old house. It locks by pushing it in on the inside, but it unlocks easily." Grabbing the base of the knob, I used my other hand to whack it three times, making the door vibrate with the force. There was a soft pop from inside.

All four men huddled closer as I opened the unlocked door and stepped inside. I scanned for Skylers blond hair, and found her sitting in-between the tub and the toilet, crying silently. Something pulsed in my heart, a maternal instinct that had been awakening with them, and I stepped over the toilet and knelt to scoop her up gently. Catching sight of the vomit floating in the toilet water, I flushed it and then closed the lid before I sat down.

I felt her forehead softly as she shifted and cried into my shirt. It was hot and covered in a dry feeling sweat. Skyler had overheated herself and gotten dehydrated; too much longer and she could have gotten heatstroke. "She's overheated." I said. I looked up at Lennox, and he nodded at me without me saying anything. Sometimes it pays off to have someone who's already been a parent longer then you have near you.

"I'll get some of your tea for her and some ice water." He said. "Eric, get the fan out of her room for her and put it in the girls room. Bobby, James, the both of you can go get the Nerf darts out of the woods. We've got everything handled here."

With double nods, Bobby and James headed off out of the house while Eric slipped into my room. I nodded at Lennox again and then shut the bathroom door. Setting out a towel with one hand, I tried to get her to let go. When it didn't work, she simply cried harder and damn near choked me with her arms, I sighed. "Wet clothes, here we come."

I turned the shower on cold and stepped in with my back too it. My walking boot would be fine wet; it wouldn't be the first time and it hadn't fallen apart yet. Keeping the sobbing six year old pressed to me, I let the water run over me, cooling me off and soaking my clothes. Skyler sobbed a little louder as I let the water run over her slowly. The water was cool to her heated skin, and was probably as unpleasant as it was relieving. I soothed her softly as I stood there.

When her skin had cooled down and she no longer sobbed, I turned the shower off. I was as soaked as a drowned cat, and so was she. This time, when I stepped out, I got her to let go long enough for me to strip her down and wrap her up in the light but fluffy towel. She leeched onto me again as I finished, and I scooped her up again, thankful that my ribs were mostly healed. I ran my fingers through her damn curls and left the bathroom, finding Lennox heading into the girls room with Eric; the fan was being finagled into the room unwillingly.

I chuckled softly at them as they managed to get it in, and I heard Hally give a soft giggle from within. Skyler gave a soft moan to me, and I walked forwards willingly, following them into the room. "It's alright baby girl." I patted her back softly.

Lennox looked back at me as Eric set up the fan. He walked closer, raising a hand to check her forehead. "You got her body to cool down." He smiled softly. "Is she feeling better?"

I shrugged softly. "I don't know. She's cooled off now, but she's probably still going to feel cruddy until tomorrow… She starts school in two days." I noted softly. Stepping around him, I brought her to her bed, where Hally scrambled over and waited for her Sister.

Settling her down, I kept her unclothed body from the men's view as I gently patted her cheek. I spotted the glass of ice water and the other glass of tea and smiled. I grabbed the tea one and brought it over, giving her a small sip. "There we go."

"Torrie?" Skyler croaked softly. "I don't feel good…"

"I know, sweet heart." I said softly. Behind me I heard the fan start up loudly, the cooling breeze blowing over us. "I know. You got heat sick."

"Heat sick?" she rasped softly. I gave her another small drink and smoothed her hair back. Hally settled next to her sister, pretty much curling around her like a cat.

"It's where you get too hot out in the Sun." I explained softly. I set the tea down and ran my hand over her cool skin. "Your gonna be alright, squirt."

"… Still feel hot…"

Nodding, I shifted the towel covering her. "I know, I know. You need to just lie here though. There isn't much I can do for you, short stuff. You need to drink the tea and the water, but don't drink too fast. Small sips and you'll feel better." I said.

Skyler let her hand come out and grasp my fingers. "Stay with us?"

"Of course." I agreed. "Can I get dressed first? I'm all wet. While I get dressed, you can have Hally help you get dressed in some shorts and a T-shirt."

Skyler nodded with a small sniffle. "Okay…"

I smiled softly at her and stood up. Lennox and Eric left the room first, and I followed, dripping water. I shut the door behind me. Lennox turned to me and quirked up a grin. "You have promise as a mother, you know that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Uhuh. I'll take that as a compliment." I slipped past him with a slight grunt. "Thanks for doing that while I got her cooled down."

He patted my shoulder as I passed. "Your tough girl act is only skin deep." He hummed. "Anytime, Torrie. I don't mind helping with the little ones; you need experienced advice."

I couldn't help the unfeminine snort that erupted from me. "Says the man who claims to have experience, even when he's never home to care for the little one."

(_**Tired and I have a headache… had to leave it off there… Kids go to school soon, and on September 3**__**rd**__**, Torrie has her 25**__**th**__** birthday.**_)


End file.
